Chapter 15

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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

As I was climbing into the chains of the brig, I caught sight, through the smoke of the pistols flashing round us, of a Malay closely following me. I thought that he was about to run his kriss into me, and I was about to strike him on the head with a sword I had seized to defend myself, when I observed that it was young Hassan, who had all the time been watching our movements with the intention of aiding us. The rush of seamen and the Dyaks threw him off the spar, and he was precipitated into the sea, between the two vessels.

"Poor! poor fellow! I could have done much to save his life," I exclaimed to myself. "But it is not a moment for regret."

Scarcely a minute after, the prahu sunk, ingulfing all with her. Fairburn and I, with those who had been preserved, were going aft to the captain, when I caught sight of a marine levelling his musket at the head of a man floating in the water.

"There still lies one of those rascally Malays," he said in Dutch. "I will put an end to his misery."

Without a moment's thought I sprang towards him, and threw up his weapon. I thought I recognised the features. I was right. It was the faithful Hassan. He was almost exhausted, and looked as if he could not reach the side of the vessel. Instantly Fairburn threw off his jacket, and plunged overboard, while I cast a rope towards him. He swam out with powerful strokes towards the poor fellow, and grasped him just as he was on the point of sinking. As the brig had only been drifting to leeward, they were at no great distance. I again hove the rope towards them. Fairburn seized it, and, lifting the light form of the Malay lad under his left arm, he hauled himself on board.

In a short time Hassan recovered. He told us, that knowing the prahu must sink, he had struck out away from her; and, though he was drawn a short distance down in the vortex she made, he soon again reached the surface, and then swam towards the brig, trusting that we should see him, and would endeavour to save him. He was the only survivor of the Malays. Two of the Dutchmen belonging to the skiff and the Malay interpreter were missing. Twelve of the Dyaks also escaped, though several of them were wounded, who were immediately placed in the surgeon's hands. The poor fellows looked very grateful, and, although they certainly never before had heard of the healing art, they seemed fully to comprehend that what he was doing was for their benefit.

When we got aft, we had an account to hear, which naturally very much shocked us; however, I will narrate it as things occurred. We found that the vessel we were on board was the Dutch colonial brig _Swalen_ commanded by Lieutenant Cloete. The commander was on the quarter-deck with several of his officers, and, as we were led up to him by a midshipman, he received me and Fairburn with the greatest kindness, shaking us by the hand, and congratulating us on our providential escape. He at once saw that we were weak from the want of food, and the danger and excitement we had undergone.

"I would at once ask you into my cabin to refresh and rest yourselves, gentlemen," he said; "but it is at present occupied by some of your late companions in misfortune."

"What! have any escaped? Indeed we rejoice to hear it," we both exclaimed.

"Some few have; but many have been lost," answered the commander gravely. "It was a hard necessity; but I know the nature of the Malays well, and had we not fired on them they would not have yielded." While he was speaking, a boy came out of the cabin, and went up to him. "Oh, they wish to see you; and I fear the poor master's time is short. We will go below, gentlemen." Saying this, the commander led the way into his own cabin.

It was, indeed, a sad sight which met our view. On the table in the centre lay Captain Van Deck, resting in the arms of the surgeon. The sheet which was wrapped round him was covered with blood. A round shot had torn open his side, and he had a wound from a kriss in his chest, and another in his neck, either of which, from their ghastly look, appeared sufficient to be mortal. His wife stood by his side holding his hand; and she seemed truly overwhelmed with genuine sorrow. She, very likely, was even then recollecting all the trouble and vexation she had caused him, by giving way to her temper. On a sofa lay a slight figure--it was that of little Maria. I started, with horror, for I thought I saw a corpse, she looked so pale; her eyes also were closed, and she did not stir. I scarcely dared ask for information. My attention was drawn to the dying master.

"I have begged to see you, gentlemen, for my moments are numbered," he said, gasping as he spoke. "I crave your forgiveness, if, through my carelessness and neglect of my duties, I have brought you into the danger and misery you have suffered. I know you, Fairburn, held my seamanship light."

We stopped him, and begged him not to think of the subject.

"Well, I will go on to a more important one, then," he continued. "We have been shipmates for some time, and that makes us brethren. I commit my wife and that dear child, if she recovers, to your charge, to see them safe with their kindred in Java. And you, my poor frow, will be kind to sweet little Maria. I would not mention it, but to say that the kindness you show to her will more than compensate for any little want of it you have at times displayed towards me."

He hesitated as he spoke, as if he did not like to call up old grievances.

Mrs Van Deck again burst into tears; and we who knew how very uncomfortable a life she had at times led him, could not help feeling that he was in a truly Christian and forgiving state of mind. Had he and she always been in that state of mind--had, perhaps, even a few words of mutual explanation taken place--undoubtedly their unhappiness would have been avoided. We promised the dying man that we would attend his wishes. He heard us, but his strength was exhausted; his wound welled forth afresh, and, before the surgeon could apply a restorative, his spirit had flown to its eternal rest. I will not describe the grief of the widow. Grief had worked a most beneficial effect on her, and she appeared a totally, different person to what she had before been.

The surgeon now turned the whole of his attention to little Maria. She had been wounded in the side by a splinter; but, though she was weak from the loss of blood, he assured me that he did not apprehend any danger. She was, though, suffering much from pain, which she bore most meekly.

When I first entered the cabin, I thought I had observed an object moving in the corner, but I took no notice of it. I had sat down by the little girl's side, and, having taken one of her hands in mine, I was endeavouring to soothe her for the loss of her uncle, of which she was aware, when I felt my other hand, which hung by my side, seized hold of by a cold paw. I turned round, and what should I see but little Ungka, looking up towards me with a face as expressive of grief as that of any human being! He seemed fully aware of what had occurred. He then put his hands to his head, and chattered and rolled about in a way which, in spite of his gravity, was so highly ludicrous, that at any other time I should have burst into fits of laughter. When he had come on board, no one knew; for when he first made his appearance following the captain, the seamen thought he was some little Malay imp, and had thrust him back again, so that he also had a very narrow escape for his life. I suspected that he had caught hold of the end of a rope hanging over the side of the vessel, and had clambered up it when the fight was done.

It was with great sorrow we heard that the two lady passengers, of whom I have spoken, and nearly all the Dutch crew, were missing, and there was every probability they had been destroyed in the burning wreck. The crew of the jolly-boat had been taken on board one of the other prahus; but what their fate was, no one knew. Thus out of the crew and passengers of the ill-fated _Cowlitz_, only six people had escaped. We, who were among the number, had therefore reason to be grateful to Heaven for the mercy shown us.

The brig cruised about in the neighbourhood for two days, in the hopes of falling in with others of the piratical squadron. She, however, did not succeed in discovering any more.

I will pass over the events of the next few days. The north-east monsoon showing signs of beginning to blow in earnest, the commander of the brig was anxious to return to port, and accordingly with much reluctance gave up the search. Little Maria was slowly recovering. The widow bore her grief meekly and resignedly, and showed that she was a thoroughly altered woman. Wounds in that burning clime are more dangerous than in colder latitudes; thus three of the wounded had died. One was a little boy, the child of a Dyak woman. He had been badly wounded in the shoulder while resting in her arms. The child sank gradually, nor could the surgeon's skill avail to arrest the progress of death. The poor mother used to watch him with supplicating looks as he dressed the wound, as if he alone had the power to save her boy: and when he died, she reproached him, with unmistakable gestures, for not preserving him to her. Savage as she was--accustomed to scenes of bloodshed and murder from her youth--the feelings of a mother were strong within her, and she would not be comforted. Captain Cloete was very anxious to land the Dyaks in their native country, and he consulted Fairburn as to the possibility of discovering it. We had, it must be remembered, been left below both on entering and leaving the river, so that we could only give a very rough guess at its position. Fairburn, however, of course, expressed his anxiety to be of service; and by consulting the chart, and considering attentively the courses we had steered, and calculating the distance we had afterwards been driven by the gale, we came to the conclusion that the poor wretches must have been taken from the Balowi river, on the north-west coast of Borneo. For the mouth of that river we accordingly shaped our course. It would have been barbarous to have landed the poor wretches at any other spot than their own country; for they would either have been made slaves of by the Malays, or killed by the other Dyaks for the sake of their heads. It is a curious fancy the Dyaks of Borneo entertain, of collecting as many dried heads as they can obtain, either to wear as trophies of their prowess, or to hang up in their head-houses.

We were treated with the greatest kindness by the captain and his officers, who seemed to vie with each other in doing us service. They all spoke some English, and most very well, so that we had no difficulty in carrying on conversation with them. When they heard my story especially, they seemed to sympathise warmly with me, and express themselves anxious to assist me by every means in their power. I, meantime, was not idle, and employed every spare moment in learning the Malay language, as also in attaining some knowledge of that of Java, as well as of others of the numerous dialects spoken in the Indian Archipelago. I felt that my success might depend on my speaking fluently the languages of the countries I should visit and consequently that I must exert myself to the utmost. To those acquainted only with their own tongue, it may appear impossible that I could gain knowledge sufficient to be of any material use; but it must be remembered that I was already accustomed to the Hindostanee, and other dialects of India, and that, therefore, with the stimulus I had, the acquisition of others was comparatively easy, considering the natural aptitude I possessed of learning foreign languages. Thus, notwithstanding my anxiety, the time flew rapidly by.

Four days after we had so providentially escaped from the Sooloo pirates, we sighted Cape Sink, on the north-west coast of Borneo, some way to the southward of which was the river whence the Dyaks had been captured. As we ran along the coast at a respectful distance, for fear of some sunken rocks and shoals which we believed to be off it, Fairburn and I were looking out, with our glasses, for the mouth, which we hoped to be able to make out. The rescued natives were on deck; and we fully expected that they would be able to recognise the approach of their native stream. We looked at them as they watched the shore with surprised and somewhat puzzled looks; but still they gave no signs to lead us to suppose that they were aware they were approaching their own country. We found, however, that their puzzled looks arose from their supposing that they were already many hundred miles away from their own country, and from their finding themselves, as they supposed, on a coast so very similar to it. As we ran along the coast, the mouth of a broad river opened before us, and, with the lead going to ascertain the depth of water we stood in towards it. On drawing near, it seemed to widen still more; and our captain being anxious to explore it, the wind also being fair, we crossed the bar, which had a considerable depth over it. The river, at the mouth, was nearly four miles wide, but it narrowed shortly to about a mile. Still the Dyaks showed no sign of satisfaction, and both Fairburn and I began to suspect that we had entered the wrong river; we continued, however, our course. As yet we had seen no signs of human beings; but just as we rounded a point, we came suddenly on a canoe, with three men fishing in her. They were so paralysed with the astonishment our appearance caused, that at first they forgot even to attempt to escape. Our boats were ready manned to lower into the water at a moment's notice; so in an instant two of them were in the water in chase of the strangers. This somewhat restored the Dyaks to their senses; and seizing their paddles, they plied them strenuously in the hope of escaping from the formidable prahu, which the brig must have appeared to them. Seeing, however, that the boats rapidly gained upon them, they ceased rowing, and two of them seizing their sumpitans, or blow-pipes, shot several poisoned arrows at the Dutchmen. Fortunately no one was hit by them; and the officer in care of them bethinking himself of displaying a white handkerchief, this universal token of peace was understood, and all hostile demonstration ceased. The Dyaks, on this, seemed to banish all their alarm, and were at once on perfectly good terms with the boats' crews. They quickly understood that they were required to pilot the brig up the river, and willingly came on board. Captain Cloete, who was well accustomed to deal with savages, explained to a fine young man, who seemed to be the chief, and the most intelligent of the party, the depth of water his vessel drew; that he must avoid all rocks and sand-banks, and that he wished to sail up about three times as far as we had already gone. The other Dyaks had hitherto been kept out of sight. They were now brought on deck; but when the fishermen saw them, instead of rushing into each other's arms, they appeared much more ready to attempt cutting off each other's heads; and the alarm of both parties was very evident, for they both fancied that there was some treachery to be practised against them. The captain, however, who at once understood their feelings, quickly managed to dispel their fears, first by producing the white handkerchief, and then by bringing both parties close to each other, and making them shake hands. It must be owned that they did not do so with much good grace, and they reminded me strongly of two dogs who have just been gnawing away at each other's throats, being brought together to make friends by their peaceably inclined masters. At last, being convinced that our intentions were good, they began to talk to each other, the fishermen asking the prisoners whence they had come, and the latter giving them an account of their adventures. The result of the conversation raised the Dutch in the estimation of our new acquaintance, who learned to appreciate their power, and wished to serve those who trusted them.

We asked the young fisherman his name; and he made us understand that it was Kalong. His eyes sparkled with animation whenever any one addressed him; and with wonderful rapidity he seemed to comprehend our signs, and was never at a loss to answer us. To show us the course of the river, he knelt down on the deck, and, taking the end of a rope, he twisted it about to show the various reaches in it; then seizing a handful of chips of wood from the carpenter's bench, he quickly formed one to indicate the brig, with two strips stuck perpendicularly into it to serve as masts. Holding this rough model in his hand, he tossed it about off one end of the rope, to show that there was the sea where we had been tossed about in the storm, and then he made it move slowly up the rope, to show how the brig had glided calmly up the river till she reached the spot where we then were. He next stuck several chips together, evidently to show that they were intended to represent a Dyak habitation, and these he placed further up the rope; and then touching himself and the other men, showed that he lived there. The rest of the rope he twisted about, and placed other houses alongside it, till he shook his head, showing that he knew nothing further of the country. We had now a very good chart before us of the river we were in, which Captain Cloete had forthwith copied on paper, to the infinite delight of the designer.

His success seemed to sharpen his wits; and taking another bit of rope which was given to him, he knelt down some way from the first, and twisted it about to form a river. He also placed some houses on it, and rushing up to the Dyaks, he touched them all severally, to show that they were to represent their habitations; and then taking several small chips in his hand, he moved them up rapidly towards the houses, several of which he knocked over. We thus understood that our Dyaks had come from a river to the north of the one we were in.

Captain Cloete, however, did not like to lose so favourable an opportunity of visiting on amicable terms these singular people, and therefore resolved to anchor off the village for the night, and to carry out charges to their native place on the following day. The wind continuing fair, though light, we slowly glided up the stream, the flood-tide aiding us. The scenery, as we advanced, improved considerably, the trees being of fine height, and mountains appearing in the distance. We had as yet observed no signs of cultivation, nor did the country appear to be inhabited. We saw, however, a great variety of animals. As I was watching the shore, I observed something move on a sand-ridge. I pointed it out to Kalong. He laughed, and opened his mouth very wide, as if he would eat me. The action was significant; and Fairburn, who had been turning his glass in that direction, exclaimed, "Why, that is a crocodile; and a big fellow, too, in truth." The monster seemed arousing himself from sleep, and slowly crawled out of the slimy bed in which he had been reposing. Several shots were fired at him, but the balls glanced off harmlessly from his scaly sides. I afterwards saw some captured by a very simple method.

The breeze freshened, and we ran rapidly on, carefully, of course, sounding all the time. Kalong, our pilot, was in great delight, till he saw one of the officers going to fire at a crocodile, when he rushed up to him, and entreated him not to do so. Willing to please him, the officer desisted, and the monster escaped a slight tickling on the back. The reason was soon apparent; for, rounding a high and thickly-wooded point, we found ourselves in a little bay, on the shore of which was a large village, while close to us, under the shade of the lofty palm-trees which overhung the water, numerous groups of women and children were disporting in the refreshing stream. When we first intruded into this sylvan retreat, their consternation was so great that they scarcely knew where to run to screen themselves from our view; then setting up a loud and simultaneous shriek, they fled, dragging the young ones with them, some towards the village, and others into the wood. At the same moment we heard the tom-tom beat to arms, and observed the warriors putting on their wooden and woollen armour, and seeking their spears and sumpitans. Kalong had now sufficiently enjoyed the fright he intended to give his countrymen, and making his appearance in the rigging, he waved a white cloth to assure them that we came as friends. As soon as he was recognised, loud shouts proclaimed the satisfaction of those on shore, and a number of canoes were seen putting off towards us.

I must now stop to describe the wild and extraordinary scene before us, with which I was afterwards doomed to become so familiar. I have spoken of a village, but I should rather have said the castle; for the habitation of the numerous tribe assembled on the shore consisted chiefly of one large building, several hundred feet long, and standing on the summit of stout piles, not less than forty feet in height. At this great distance from the ground a bamboo platform had been constructed to serve as the floor of the house, which itself was not more than six feet high. The side-walls were also of bamboo, and the roof was made from the leaves of the nibong and other palms. It rose to the height of the surrounding trees, standing as it did on a high mound of earth thrown up artificially some little way from the banks of the river. It was intended to serve as a fortification; and also, I suspect, that airy style of building must much conduce to preserve the health of the people. Several rope ladders led from the ground to this singular residence. We received the chief, and a number of the principal people and their followers, on board. They had little clothing besides the waistcloth, made of bark from a tree; and large rings in their ears, and were very far from being prepossessing in their appearance. Captain Cloete, keeping on his guard against treachery, should such be attempted, allowed them to inspect everything on board the brig. They seemed pleased with all they saw, and behaved very well, but in no way showed surprise. We found, to our no little satisfaction, that some of them understood the Malay language, and that Hassan was able to converse with them. Soon after we made the discovery, Fairburn and I were standing with Hassan, surrounded by several, of whom we were making inquiries. Among other questions, Fairburn asked if they were not surprised at seeing so large a vessel off their village.

"They say no," replied Hassan; "for not many moons ago there was another vessel off here nearly as big, only she had not so many chiefs with fine dresses, or so many people in her. But then there were women in her; and one little girl just like the one here," meaning Maria.

On this I pricked up my ears, and my heart beat quick with anxiety. I entreated Hassan to make further enquiries.

"They say that the vessel was rigged like this; she was a brig." He continued, after speaking with them for some time: "She came in here for wood and water. She was not a war ship, but the people went about armed. They were very disorderly; and some of them behaving ill to the people on shore, were very nearly cut off, and barely escaped with their lives to their boat. She then set sail, and going down the river was no more seen."

This account made me feel that it was more than probable that the brig was no other than the _Emu_, and that she had been run away with by her crew. Another dreadful idea instantly forced itself on my imagination. If the brig in question was the _Emu_, had she really sailed, or had the Dyaks, as they might have been tempted to do, cut her off? I begged Hassan to make every inquiry, and to cross-question the people to ascertain the truth of their story. I was inclined to believe it, as they had so frankly spoken about the brig; whereas, had they destroyed her, it would have been a subject they would have avoided. At all events, we observed no European arms or clothes in their possession; and Hassan assured us that he had every reason to think that they did not deceive us. In this unexpected way I discovered that the vessel I was in search of was not wrecked, and that there was every probability of my friends being alive. All other interests were now absorbed in this great one, and I never ceased making inquiries about the brig of all I met. I, notwithstanding, went on shore with a party of officers, to visit the strange residence before us. It struck me that the idea of Jack and the Bean Stalk might have originated from it. Having climbed up the ladder, we were ushered into the chief's room, which was in the centre, behind it being arranged that of the women. There was but little furniture besides mats and cushions; and the only ornaments, if they could be so called, were a number of dried human heads hanging from the ceiling. I shuddered as I looked at them at first; but I own that I soon got accustomed to them. They were the heads of the enemies of the tribe taken in war, and were prized as much as the North American Indian does the scalps of his foes. No objection was made to our visiting the apartments of the women. They were clothed in long loose garments, of native cloth, suspended from the waist, their shoulders being bare. They were small, but well shaped. Their hair, which was long and dark, was twisted up at the back of the head; the front locks being plaited and drawn off the forehead. Their skins were of a light brown colour, smooth and glossy. They wore ear-rings of some mixed metal, of a size very disproportionate to their small figures, and very far from becoming. Their countenances, if not pretty, were highly good-humoured and pleasant. The younger women were diligently employed in pounding rice in mortars of large dimensions. There were groups of children playing in the verandah, who at first were very shy of us; but as we made them little presents of beads, and other trifles, their confidence was quickly established, and wherever we went they followed, laughing heartily, and dancing round us. At length, our curiosity being satisfied, we descended from the bird-like nest, and returned on board the brig. _

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