CHAPTER IX

.

THE SULU ISLANDS.

SECOND VISIT.

Reach Sugh--Mr. Wyndham comes on board--His News--Commercial Rivalry--The Stockades--Visit the Audience Hall--Appearance of the Sultan--Visit Datu Daniel’s Stockaded House--Guns--Datu Daniel--Appearance of the principal Chamber--The Bed--Boxes--Property--General look of Discomfort--Spittoons--Dismounted Iron Guns--Taken from the English--Excitement in the Town--Hereditary Hatred of the Sulus to the Spaniards--Their Treaty with Spain--Sandakan Bay--Supplies--Variegated Wood--Salute--English popular--An Exception--Death of a Sulu Lady from Grief--The Rumah Bechara--A Ship taken--Interview with the Sultan--Hope--Character of Datus--The Balignini--Capture an English Ship--Captives brought to Sulu--Result of the Action of the Nemesis--The Lanuns--At Magindanau and Cape Unsang--A narrow Escape--Mate to Lord Cochrane--Capture of the _Maria Frederica_--Cold-blooded Murder of the Captain--Jilolo Prahus--Their Rencontre with Sir Edward Belcher--Pirates off the Arru Group--Sulu Justice--Appearance of the People--Attack on the Spanish Gunboats--Public Audience with the Sultan--Private Visit to the House of his Bride--The Women--Opium-smoking--Invitation to revisit Sulu--The Spanish Gunboats--Samboañgan--The Corner Shop--Sunday’s Amusements--Appearance of the Neighbourhood--A Breakfast in the Country--Long Walks--People comfortable--Story of the Loss and Re-capture of the _Dolphin_--The _Dolphin_ sails for Maludu Bay--Quarrels--Surprised--Death of Mr. Burns and the Captain--Murder of a Woman--Injury to Trade--Datu Badrudin’s Monopolies--The Tungku Pirates--Visit the chief Town of Maludu--Sherif Husin’s Account of the Surprise of the _Dolphin_--The Re-capture of the Vessel by Sherif Yasin--Arrival at Benggaya--_Dolphin_ delivered up--Visit the Village of Sherif Yasin--His Appearance--His Account of the Re-capture--His Position--Smoking over Powder--Delivery of the Cargo--Return to the Ship--Argus Pheasants--Meet with Baju Boats--Pearl Fishers--Retaliation--Fishing for Pearls--Mr. Edwardes’s Pearl--Story of the Datu, and his great good Fortune--The Mermaid Pearl--Present State of Piracy on the North-West Coast--Cruise of the Balignini in 1861--Ransom of Inchi Ngah--Names of present Haunts of the Balignini--A Mangrove Swamp--Present System of Balignini--Escape of a Native--The Lanuns--A Dayak’s Experience--A Slave Mart--Spanish Attack on Sugh--Severe Fight--Bravery of the Sulus--Capture of the Town--The Sulu Government retire to the Hills, and refuse to submit--A Teak Forest burnt--No Teak in Borneo--Elephants extinct in Sulu.

Started from Labuan in the steamer _Nemesis_; and passing over our old ground soon found ourselves in the Sulu seas. It is difficult navigation, but we passed safely among the shoals, steering south of Cagayan Sulu, and between the islands of Ubian and Peñgaturan, where there is a deep channel. The latter is a long and low island, of great extent, with a few small villages, palm groves, and near it we observed many fishermen’s canoes. The sea is studded with shoals and little islands, and I counted eleven at one time from the deck. It was misty weather when the island first appeared; but as we approached Sugh the weather cleared, and by the time we had anchored it was tolerably fine. Since our last visit many houses have been built, and the town is gradually assuming its ancient appearance.

A quarter of an hour after our arrival Mr. Wyndham, whom we had met on our previous visit, came on board, and brought us the little news he possessed, that Sulu was perfectly tranquil, and that the Dutch, with two small vessels, were gradually extending their claims along the east coasts of Borneo, that the Governor of Manilla had protested against the Dutch interference in Sulu, and that the pirates of Balignini were utterly rooted out of their old haunts on the islands of Tonquil and Balignini. But it was a mistake to imagine that the Spaniards had killed or taken prisoners the whole number, for very many escaped and retired to Sulu. Mr. Wyndham was startled on hearing of the expected arrival of an European enemy, and uttered many exclamations as to the injustice and barbarity of attacking an inoffensive people, and asked many questions as to the profit of making this aggression, though he was scarcely surprised, as he had known they had long desired the eastern coast of Borneo, and that they are endeavouring to obtain a show of right for its seizure, as by them our ancient claim is no longer remembered.

At four, we left the _Nemesis_ with Mr. Wyndham, to visit datu Molok, the prime minister. We pulled in for the little creek in the centre of the town, passing many new houses lately built by the Chinese. Mr. Wyndham told us that he found them very troublesome competitors; as, spreading themselves over all the neighbouring islands, they offered apparently higher prices for produce than he could possibly do; so he obtained from the sultan an order for their recall to the capital. I say apparently higher prices, for by means of false weights and the tricks usually practised by the Chinese, they were enabled to outbid the honest European. Yet I fear that in this there is much commercial jealousy, and that the injury done to the general trade by the restriction is much greater than the profit to the individual.

As we passed before the fort I could see numerous guns displaying their adamantine lips through the embrasures; and I learned from our companion that the Sulus possess about 150 brass guns, besides innumerable iron ones. In the market-place, crowds of armed men were assembled, looking eagerly and anxiously at us. We landed at the little bridge, and learning that Molok was at the sultan’s palace, we proceeded thither, escorted by about half a dozen men armed with long spears, and followed by a crowd of men, women, and children. We soon arrived at the fort, and then entering the old audience hall, found it in much the same condition as before, quite as bare of ornament, with the old round table and white cloth, and the chairs arranged around. Datu Molok was present, with a few others; and we had nearly arranged about the salute when the sultan entered, and it was settled that it should be given the next day.

The news of the Dutch having taken Bali made them all look at each other with marks of great disquietude, and when they heard of the amount of the Dutch force which was expected to visit Sulu, their uneasiness was clearly to be seen under their assumed quietude. The sultan appeared in better health, but the heaviness of the lower part of his face gives him a stupid look, and his long jacket of white silk did not suit his pale appearance. Having taken our leave, we retired, and returned to the ship; but Sir James Brooke, being anxious to see some of the datus that evening, sent us on shore again to arrange a meeting with Mr. Wyndham: but Molok, being then with the sultan, smoking opium, we went to datu Daniel’s.

For a couple of hundred yards from the shore the water was so shallow, that we were compelled to be dragged along over the sand in Mr. Wyndham’s flat-bottomed boat. Walking a few hundred yards inland to the left of the town, on the road to the race-course, we came to the house. It is surrounded by a stockade some thirty feet high; there were two long iron eighteen-pounder guns to defend the approaches, but only one was mounted, though there were two brass ones ready for service in his verandah. A wretched-looking pony, and a man with a chain round his neck pounding rice, were the most remarkable features of the place.

Having mounted some high steps, we entered the house, where we found datu Daniel lying down on his bed, suffering from an attack of intermittent fever. He sat up, however, and talked a little, expressed his regret that he was unable to come on board and see the Rajah, but sent one of his people to Molok to arrange a meeting. The room we entered was large, some fifty feet long by twenty broad, with a raised recess on one side fifteen feet square. A native bed, thirty feet long and twelve broad, occupied the greater portion of the room; it was divided in two by a curtain, and resembled more a large raised room than a bed. At the end were long shelves filled with packets of goods, small boxes, and innumerable articles which I could not distinguish, while around were hung the datu’s handsome jackets, sarongs, trousers, krises, and other finery for state occasions. Four gun-cases were piled at the side of the bed, while in the recess above mentioned, and about the room, were forty or fifty boxes, containing his valuable property; there was a ladder, also, which led to the loft.

Chairs were provided for us; but, with the exception of the bed covered with beautiful mats and the handsomely-ornamented pillows, the whole place had an air of discomfort, a sort of musty look. The bed itself is no doubt the datu’s chief residence; we could only just see the head of the farther half, as a blue curtain was drawn across, concealing its beauties and its treasures. Around the room were arranged several dozen brass spittoons, as if the chief were accustomed to give large parties. Some of the women and young girls came to the doors to look at us; a few were tolerably good-looking, with their dark eyes and black hair, but the generality were like the Malays.

Returning, we were, as usual, very much stared at, but little followed. We walked behind some of the stockades, but saw that nothing had been done either to repair them, or to mount the guns, which lay grass-covered in every direction. As they were those captured from the English when Balambañgan was taken, it is probable they were too honeycombed to be of any use. We remained at Mr. Wyndham’s house waiting for Molok’s answer, which came at length, mentioning nine as the hour.

The news of the intended visit of their last European enemy must have spread very rapidly; boats were plying to and fro from the palace and outside houses, bringing all the valuables on shore. As Molok sent a message that he could not come, we had a long talk with Mr. Wyndham, who frankly confessed he was a Spaniard in heart, as he thought they were more likely to settle the affairs of these countries than the English, but added, for some reason he could not fathom, there was an unconquerable prejudice among the Sulus against the Spaniards. It is no doubt an hereditary feeling, for these islanders and the Castilians have been constantly at war for the last three hundred years; the latter endeavouring to subject them, and the former supporting their independence with great determination.

By the treaty of September 23rd, 1836, the Spaniards offered their protection and the assistance of their army and navy to support the sultan and repel any enemies who might attack him, and the sultan of Sulu accepted their friendship and protection. This article the Sulus considered the Spaniards had failed to carry into effect, as the spirit and letter of the treaty bound Spain and Sulu to consider their respective enemies as perpetual foes, except that the Sulus were not required to support Spain in an European war.

Mr. Wyndham said that Sandakan Bay is exceedingly unhealthy, and that the whole eastern coast bears the same character during the south-west monsoon; but nearly every tropical place is insalubrious until cleared and drained. Sandakan is reported to be one of the noblest harbours in the world, perfectly sheltered, with eight fathoms of water. Innumerable boats came around the steamer with vegetables, cocoa-nuts, eggs, fowls, fruit, krises, Sulu knives, Dutch 32-pounder shot, cattle, and excellent fish, particularly the red mullet; eggs on the whole very good; mangoes and plantains; but krises of indifferent quality; the Sulu knives, of very peculiar shape, are mostly made in China for this market; a tolerable one, with a sheath of clouded wood, and a handle with an Arabic inscription, I tried to buy, but they asked too much for it. The upper portion of the sheath was of the Kayu Kamuning, a beautiful wood from the island of Magindanau, which, if it could be obtained of large size, would be invaluable for furniture; but the natives said it was only the knots of the trees which were beautifully marked.

At one, we saluted the sultan with twenty-one guns. The echo seemed to commence at the first hill, and gradually, now with a deeper, then with a lighter sound, rolled round over the whole circle of hills and valleys. The sultan returned the salute from his various stockades.

The English appear very popular in Sulu, their only enemy being datu Boyak, the rajah Mudu, who was away. He felt aggrieved with the English on account of Sir Thomas Cochrane’s attack on Maludu Bay. His sister had married sherif Usman, its chief, who, during the fight, was shot in the stomach with grape, as he, being one of those whom they deem invulnerable, exposed himself to every fire, and fought to the last. His wife was inconsolable for his loss, refused to return to Sulu, retired into the country, fell ill, and died. Her brother keeps this as a sort of canker in his bosom. The way these men prepare themselves to be invulnerable is different from that practised in Sarawak: here they rub their whole bodies with some preparation of mercury.

I asked Mr. Wyndham about the _Rumah Bechara_, or House of Discussion, mentioned by the American navigator Wilkes, but he said it was a mistake: there was no other council than the general one of the datus.

A Madras sailor, a British subject, coming on board, told us the following story:--That seven years ago he left Batavia in the _Andrew_,[10] captain and mate European, the crew twenty-five Lascars. The Lanuns attacked and took the vessel, killed the Europeans, cleared the valuables out, skuttled the ship, and carrying the crew off, sold them for slaves.

At three, we started in the gig and cutter to have an interview with the sultan. In comparison with the former visit, but few people were collected. I found that the musjid is situated within the first stockade, and the sultan’s hall in the second. Only thirty people were present; but as soon as we had entered, the place was crammed with new arrivals; the only difference we observed was that, except the sultan, none had on their state robes. They no longer thought it necessary to meet in form, but were more friendly and familiar. We conversed with the sultan, Molok, and Daniel, for some time on general subjects, and they again eagerly asked questions about Europe, particularly about France, whether affairs there were settled.

After arranging some business matters, we left and returned to the ship. We have always a crowd of canoes around the steamer with articles for sale; among others, rope made here, which appears of excellent quality, and cheap, some twenty coils being offered for a dollar. The hemp grows like the plantain, and is of about the same size and appearance, and is said to be of the same species.

Marriages are here conducted in the usual Muslim fashion, and the wives have great influence over the proceedings of their husband. In the evening, our native secretary came on board, and after explaining what had occurred after we had left, told me he considered datu Molok to be clever; datu Daniel, good-natured, though not brilliant; and that the sultan had much ability, but was generally stupefied with opium; and from what I have seen and heard, I think his judgment in all these cases correct.

About eight p.m., Mr. Wyndham came, and we had a long discussion. He is well acquainted with these seas, and could give much information on eastern politics. He told us that before the attack of the Spaniards on the Balignini, the pirates could muster above a hundred and fifty boats of a large size, containing from thirty to fifty men each; that, taking the average at forty, they numbered altogether about 6,000 men. But besides their large war-boats, they had innumerable smaller ones, used for the capture of trading and fishing-boats. He had seen many of the pirate prahus of considerable size enter Sugh harbour.

As an instance of the damage they did to commerce, he mentioned the following. Six years previously, the _Sarah and Elizabeth_, brig, anchored off Timor; and requiring wood, the captain sent three boats on shore to cut it, giving the men only their axes, and refusing fire-arms. They had not been there long, when three Balignini prahus passing that way, saw the ship’s boats drawn up on the beach, and immediately landed their crews to capture the men, in order to put them to ransom, as they are not like the Lanuns, who nearly always put their European prisoners to death. They first met the chief mate, who defended himself with his axe, until knocked down with a billet and bound. The other mate and a boy were also taken, but the men escaped into the jungle.

Whilst this was going on, it was observed that two boats were let down from the ship, which pulled immediately out to sea. The pirates, concluding that there could not be many men on board, determined to take her. On arriving alongside, they found only a dog on board: the timid captain having run away in so great a hurry as to leave both it and his watch behind. The latter was in datu Daniel’s possession at the period of our visit. The Balignini plundered and then burnt the vessel. One of the mates escaped; the other whites were brought to Sulu, ransomed, and sent home by Mr. Wyndham. This account was given both by the mate and the chief of the pirates.

Another story showed that the Sulu Government was in regular communication with the pirates; for when the miserable remains of the squadron, attacked by the _Nemesis_ off the Brunei river in 1847, returned to Balignini, the families who had lost their husbands in the

## action, came in their grief to request leave of the sultan to raise men

or collect a force to revenge the death of their relations. The sultan, of course, refused their request, and laughed at the absurdity of the idea.

We heard at Samboañgan that the Spaniards had taken the whole of the pirates, but it was a very great mistake, for hundreds escaped, and were now distributed over the Sulu Archipelago, particularly at Tawee Tawee and the little islands which are situated in the neighbourhood, as Binadan, the usual residence of Pañglima Taupan.

The most powerful pirates of the present time are the Lanuns of Magindanau, and those who in Borneo reside on the streams flowing to the southern shore of Cape Unsang. It is at these latter stations that the Lanuns generally rendezvous. Mr. Wyndham describes these pirates as very fine men, brave, fierce, never giving quarter to Europeans, and cruising in vessels ninety feet long, propelled by from 100 to 120 oars. He had himself seen many of them at Sugh. The above are the largest class, most are much smaller. The Lanuns of Magindanau, it is well known, live on an extensive lake, with a very narrow entrance; and are still very powerful, no sufficient force having ever attacked them. They continue their piratical pursuits to this day, though they appear to be gradually withdrawing from the north-west and north coasts of Borneo.

One of these marauders came to Mr. Wyndham, and, in selling his brass gun to him, said that since the English have been settled at Labuan, there are so many steamers about, it was no use pirating; so he sold his brass gun and returned home.

Mr. Wyndham told us he had once a narrow escape from them. He was sailing as mate to a Spanish brig near Wette, with the captain and most of the crew unwell. There was a light breeze blowing, when he sent a man to the mast-head to look out. Presently he shouted--“A prahu in sight--two, three, four; I cannot count them, sir.” Mr. Wyndham immediately went aloft with his spy-glass, and reckoned at least thirty-eight large prahus. Guessing who they were, he thought the bold course the best; and, getting the captain on deck, they dressed in some old uniform and walked up and down the poop; then bore down upon the pirate prahus, and, coming between the two largest, each of the same size as the brig, they observed their guns carefully covered up with mats, and but few men on deck, though they could see others peeping out from under the native awning. Mr. Wyndham immediately began questioning them; they said they were traders. He answered, “We have heard of some pirates down here, and are come to look for them.” They assured him they had seen none, and requested permission to keep him company, for protection, to Makasar, to which port they said they were bound. He answered, they might if they could keep up with him. A breeze sprang up, and the brig went ahead, and towards evening were clear of them all. A calm came on during the night, but in the morning the traders were no longer near, they could be seen in the distance pulling away as hard as they could. The _ruse_ had succeeded, and they all felt more comfortable, for they could not have defended their vessel ten minutes.

Mr. Wyndham had formerly served as a mate under Lord Cochrane, when he commanded a frigate in South America, and was with him when he performed some of his most brilliant actions, and having his old uniform perhaps saved his life. Mr. Wyndham also told us that, a few years ago, a vessel was brought into Sugh for sale by the Lanuns, which had been taken in the following manner:--The _Maria Frederica_, commanded by a man of the name of Andrew, was detained in a calm, when two Lanun boats approached and begged a few supplies. One of the men, who hated the captain, asked them why they did not come on board. The captain was unwell, and there was no one to stop them. Immediately forty of them sprang on deck, flourishing their swords, and drove the crew below, seized the captain, and brought the vessel to Tungku. They there buried the white men up to their waists in sand, and cut them to pieces with their swords. This it is said they did at the instigation of the traitor. Mr. Wyndham offered 150 dollars for him, but they would not part with him, fearing that the Englishman meant to put him to death. The vessel, I heard, was bought by a Spanish captain.[11]

The Jilolo men are said to co-operate with the Lanuns in their excursions, and were the pirates who attacked Sir Edward Belcher. One of the men present on that occasion, who was living at Sugh during our visit, gave the following account: The sultan of Jilolo sent a fleet of boats to take prisoner a tributary rajah of New Guinea, whom they got on board and killed. In returning, they saw the Samarang boats, which the chief man mistook for native prahus, though our informant insisted they were Dutch boats, upon which the order was given to fire, and they were astonished by the severe thrashing they got from our blue-jackets, under the command of Sir Edward Belcher.

No doubt these men are always ready to pirate when they have a chance. Mr. Wyndham also told me that when he was at the Aru group, it was said that the people of New Guinea were also piratical. His companions pointed to a long light boat, that was on the look-out to catch fishermen: this account agreed with what we had formerly heard. These are a scourge to the natives, but not dangerous to European vessels, yet in the end equally mischievous to trade.

Accidentally we hear anecdotes that show more of the character of the government and people than even minute investigations. The following illustrates the degree of protection afforded by the chiefs even to their guilty followers, unless bribed beyond the value of the man. There was a slave here who was in the constant habit of robbing the Chinese, and had, in his endeavours to escape capture, killed several of them. The Chinese petitioned that he should be put to death, but could not obtain this favour until they had compensated the chief by giving him double the value of the slave; he then had him tied up and cut to pieces.

The slaves taken among the Philippines, who know how to read and write and possess education, fetch a much higher price than any others, as they are useful in keeping their master’s accounts; and the women, it is said, by conversing with them, have gained far greater knowledge than their husbands, by means of which and their affection nearly rule them. Forrest says that in his time the women were very free in their manners, and given to intrigue, but in Eastern Asia it is a custom not confined to Sulu; but my impression from all I heard was that they were more chaste than the Borneans. The most manly-looking persons here are those whom they call the mountaineers, who appear far healthier and more vigorous than the town’s-people; but those we saw may have been merely the cultivators. The inland people, I heard, are more of the Ida’an race. They wear padded jackets, and are very brave.

In 1845, a Spanish frigate and fourteen gunboats were here at the watering-place, when a Bisayan slave went alongside of one of the boats to sell fruit: the moment the officer found he was a native of the Philippines, he ordered him to be seized and put on board, though he strongly protested against it. His master, who had a great affection for him, swore he would have his revenge and kill a Spaniard. Collecting about two hundred hill people, he rushed unexpectedly on the gunboats, all his followers advancing up to the middle in water, and hurling their spears: having killed several men, he was satisfied, and retired. The people are not really well armed; their spears, krises, and shields would be of little use against an European enemy.

We again visited the sultan, and found him in his hall, surrounded by perhaps about sixty or seventy people. We seated ourselves around the table, and free and easy conversation commenced. Presently chocolate was presented to us in tumblers, on plates, surrounded by native cakes; afterwards trays of sweetmeats--among others, some made by the sultana expressly for the occasion; then coffee, weak, and flavoured with cloves. For some time they conversed on various subjects, but presently datu Molok said that all business should be settled first, before any other conversation was proceeded with. When that was over, the sultan told us that, some short time back, the eastern coast of Borneo paid tribute to him, but that lately they had ceased, and asked the assistance of the English to endeavour to obtain the renewal of the ancient custom.

At ten we retired. The curtain hung at the end of the hall this evening was half raised, and disclosed the huge bed, on which were sitting many of the principal women of the harim.

Went on shore at the watering place; had a short walk and a delicious bathe. I roughly measured the circumference of the big tree, and as I have elsewhere stated, it was above forty feet in circumference. In the evening we landed in order to have a farewell interview with the sultan. It was quite a private meeting; a few people only followed us who saw us land; and when we arrived at the sultan’s palace we found that he was in a small house, the residence of his young wife. While waiting, I looked about the place; all showed symptoms of decay. Near us was the skeleton of an old gaol fallen to pieces, and farther the timbers of the residence where the late sultan had died; for it is a custom of theirs never to dwell in a house where a great man has expired. Presently a couple of the datus joined us in our walk, and proceeding over a small stream along a roughly raised boarded path we reached the little dwelling of his bride.

We found the sultan resting on a bed filling nearly half the room. Taking off our shoes, we mounted, and reclined on numerous pillows brought by the attendants. After a few minutes’ conversation, a sort of window at the head of the raised platform was opened to allow the sultan’s ladies to obtain a sight of the English visitors. Their room was too dark for us to see more within it than a few dim shadows, and their candles give so imperfect a light, that I could not clearly distinguish the features even of those women who came to the door; they appeared to have fat, laughing faces. Some more of the datus arriving, conversation became very animated, and their inquiries were very numerous with regard to European affairs and European discoveries. This was a little interrupted by the arrival of chocolate and cakes, with some spirit like spiced aniseed, and by the sultan’s frequent puff of the opium pipe with a barrel as thick as a large bamboo and a brass bowl. About five inches from the end this bowl had a small centre hole, in which, with infinite trouble, the sultan introduced the drug. They all appeared remarkably friendly, and said if we would only come and spend a little time there after the rice crop was in, they would take us up to the mountains to hunt deer on horseback; or if we liked a change, we might go shooting, or do anything we pleased.

I should in truth have liked very much to spend a month in Sulu. We stayed till about ten, and then shaking hands with all, left the house. On the whole, I was greatly pleased with these people; they appeared manly, and not too cunning. We returned to Mr. Wyndham’s house, and remained a short time with him. He was a shrewd man, entirely self-educated, and appeared anxious to assist us in every way. His leaning, as I have observed, was towards the Spaniards, but the natives had such a determined hatred both to the Dutch and Spaniards, that he could not alter their disposition.

Left at daylight. Even a distant view confirms my impression of the great beauty of the island. We stood on towards Basilan, where, in the Bay of Maloza, seven Spanish gunboats were seen at anchor. From an officer who came on board we learnt that the Governor of Samboañgan was there. Sir James Brooke determined to meet him immediately, and left with the officer, while we followed and found the Governor looking as hearty as ever, rather tired from having been engaged in an expedition up the country against the pirates. After firing a few guns, the enemy had fled, leaving their houses and property to be destroyed.

The great fatigue was in making their way through the tangled, wet jungle, where the mire was so deep that they were occasionally up to their waists in it. The Spaniards are certainly an agreeable people to meet, and the officers looked intelligent. The Manilla troops were strong, fine men; the gunboats very effective for defence: they mount a 9-pounder or 12-pounder, and six, eight, or ten brass swivels, and are well manned; they are, however, too slow for pursuit.

The Governor was very much startled by the news of the expected arrival of the Dutch, of which he had not the slightest idea, thinking that Bali would occupy them this summer. He determined immediately to return and write to Manilla.

Passed Basilan, leaving the gunboats much astern, and reached Samboañgan. It appeared, of course, much the same, except that a hurricane had lately swept over the town, bringing down the church, thirty houses, and casting on shore four vessels, one of which remained there. From what we heard, several instances of piracy had lately occurred, but the particulars we expected to learn from the Governor.

After dinner we landed, and took a walk. The open rice grounds, the groves of palms, the herds of buffaloes, the cows, the ponies, the regular roads, the stone bridges all showed that we were at a place where Europeans had for some time governed. Everything was much the same as when we left, even the hospitality, or rather conviviality, of the corner shop.

The day we arrived the priests baptized some natives, among whom were many children of the pirates and many of their little slaves, all captured during the last great expedition.

Walked out on the western road, and found it quite animated with crowds of people who were taking their Sunday’s amusement: dancing in booths and houses, collecting in groups chatting and laughing, playing the guitar and the flute; in fact, giving themselves up to enjoyment. In the evening we went to the Governor’s, and he took us to the Lieutenant-Governor’s. All spoke Spanish but himself, and he acted as interpreter.

A day in the country. The Governor asked us to breakfast at the government country-house. Some of us started at half-past six, and walked sharply out. On either side of us were rice fields, in which were grazing in the stubble a great many ponies, and bullocks, and buffaloes. The whole country exhibits different features from any other place I have seen in the East; it is much more European. I found, at a little distance from the town, almost every person’s possession regularly fenced in, and to each house a little enclosed garden, though rather slovenly kept, still exhibiting signs of superior cultivation. At the back of the government house are the grounds, which are kept in order by the soldiers. They produce sufficient vegetables for the consumption of 350 men: potatoes, yams, sweet potatoes, beans, cabbages, onions, and garlic.

Passing the government house, we came to a stone bridge crossing a beautiful, clear river, bubbling and rushing over a sandy, pebbly bed. The banks are high, and the bridge is strong, to meet the immense rush of water which comes down in the rainy season. We wandered about till past nine--my companion sketching and I lazily taking a delicious bath in pure cold water, that made me feel as fresh as ever; and with an appetite sufficient to do justice to the very admirable and substantial breakfast set before us, of fish, beef, a magnificent ham dressed in a most inviting manner, good bread, curries, and a variety of little dishes, with coffee, wine (Spanish and French), and very excellent water. Nothing is more tranquillizing than a satisfactory breakfast. There is a species of yam at Samboañgan, which we were told by one of the officers occasionally weighs above a hundred and thirty pounds. After breakfast I strolled about, forded the river, and looked into every nook and corner, finding pretty cottages and gardens amid the clumps of graceful bamboos.

In the afternoon we made a cut across the country to the western road, and, following that, arrived at length at another river. The whole of the landscape was very picturesque. We spent our last day at Samboañgan in a long walk to the westward, for above three miles, until we arrived at some extensive downs that border the sea, and strolled for hours over them, admiring the beautiful swell of the land, and the purling streams that flowed over their pebbly beds. The day before we started the Governor and principal officers dined on board.

From what I have seen of the people of Samboañgan, I should say they are contented and happy, well fed, and lightly taxed. They all look plump, even the very old exhibited none of that ugliness so conspicuous among the aged Malays. The children, particularly the girls, have pleasant, pretty faces, with an intelligent, confiding expression; the little ones, both girls and boys, were familiar and full of fun. There are apparently a great many schools: all the boys we met in the afternoon appeared to be returning with their satchels hanging at their sides. One I examined possessed a miscellaneous collection of lives of saints, crumpled paper, and fruit. The men have by no means a pleasant expression, but are a well-made, able-bodied race. The Governor told us he established one village in the mountains for the protection of the wood-cutters, another on the coast for that of the fishermen.

Before leaving the subject of these lovely islands, I will relate the story of the loss and recovery of the English schooner _Dolphin_, as showing to what kind of hazards traders are exposed in these peaceful-looking seas.

I was visiting the northern coasts in the _Pluto_ steamer in November, 1851, and had just cast anchor in Maludu Bay, when I heard the particulars of a frightful tragedy. Sherif Hasan came on board; Hasan is the son of the Sherif Usman I have before mentioned. He came down to the cabin with a sorrowful countenance, and when I inquired the news, he answered, “very dreadful.” I soon learnt from him that the English schooner _Dolphin_, from Labuan, had been cut off, and Mr. Burns, the supercargo, and the English captain, three sailors, and one woman killed. From all I could then gather, the particulars of the affair were as follows:--About a month ago, Mr. Burns agreed with Tuanku Hasan that he should pilot him round the east coast in order that he might find Kina Batañgan, but a quarrel arose between Mr. Burns and his captain, which came to blows. After this quarrel they agreed to return to Labuan, and giving up the idea of trading to the eastward, they set sail from the harbour, and anchored at a little distance from Limau-Limauan--a point on the north-western side of the bay.

There Memadam, a Lanun from Tungku, pulled alongside in a trading prahu, and saying he wished to barter some things he had, came on board with a party of nine men apparently unarmed, and brought camphor and other articles for sale. Whilst they were bargaining on deck, a man named Ibrahim handed a folded mat to Mr. Burns, who put out his hands to receive it; the man then suddenly drew a naked kris that had been hidden in the mat, and with one blow cut Mr. Burns’s head off; Memadam struck at the captain, but hit his jaw only; the Englishman made a rush below, or, as others declare, out on the bowsprit, but was stabbed through the back with a spear. The pirates then killed the woman and three sailors, whom they came across, the rest who fled up the rigging they spared on condition of their navigating the ship. The pirates then set sail for the east coast, and arriving at Labuk Bay, the vessel was seized by Sherif Yasin, who, as Tuanku Hasan asserts, killed two of the pirates. The chief, Memadam, retired to the woods with two of the captain’s sailors. The reason they gave for killing the woman was that her presence on board caused disputes; one man seized her by the left arm, and declared she was his property, as he had seen her first; another denied his claim, and already they had drawn their swords on each other, when Memadam came up behind, and stabbed her through the back, saying she should belong to neither.

The Tuanku complained bitterly of the cutting up of the trade of the coast by the pirates; as many as fifty of their boats were cruising off the bay during the last season; they came from the Binadan islands, near Tawee Tawee. The boats from Tungku also occasionally infest this place, and many manned by the Sulus of Padang have been cruising here lately. Sherif Hasan, the son, as I have observed, of Sherif Usman, appeared deeply annoyed at the state of affairs at Maludu. He said that although the government rightfully belonged to him, yet datu Badrudin was continually intriguing, and he had left the town unable to withstand his machinations. The Dusuns, or rather the Ida’an, were very dilatory in paying the rightful tribute, being interfered with by the datu.

It appeared true that this datu was a very bad man to hold the government, as he was shutting up the productions of all these districts, hoping to monopolize them himself, wishing to trade directly with Java or Singapore on a large scale, or to induce European vessels to visit the Bay. He deceived the ships that came to him, and no cargoes were obtained, so that he clogged commerce, and made little profit himself. The trade of this coast would be great if unfettered, and Maludu Bay is certainly as productive as any district.

Sherif Hasan stated that he has heard of two English ships besides the _Dolphin_ being captured by the pirates of Tungku, but those instances were several years ago; the Europeans were murdered, the rest kept for slaves. The Tungku pirates generally plunder more to the eastward and southward, and make great havoc among the Bugis boats. Started at daylight in the armed cutter for the town of Maludu. The head of the bay for nearly four miles from the shore shallows from about two fathoms to scarcely sufficient to float a boat.

After three hours’ pull we arrived, poling our way up the narrow creek to the houses. The country is flat, but at the back the mountains soon rise: there are a few cocoa-nut and other fruit trees scattered about. We stopped at Tuanku Musahor’s house, as datu Badrudin’s was some distance up the river. We climbed the steps to a shabby passage, leading into the main room, where an enormous Malay bed, some twenty feet square, as usual filled up a large portion of the space, on which mats were spread, and having shaken hands with the assembled company, our conversation commenced; there were present Sherifs Musahor, Abdullah, Jenalabudin, a Tringganu man, who backed Usman in his defence of his forts, and Sherif Husin, a brother of Sherif Moksain’s, of Sarawak.

Our conversation turned naturally on Mr. Burns, as I had come to make inquiries. Sherif Husin was present during the massacre, he had come on board whilst Mr. Burns was talking to the Lanuns and Sulus. By his invitation he stept aft, and while he was looking over the stern, and speaking to some men in his boat, he heard a noise, and turning, saw Mr. Burns fall before the kris of a Sulu, and the Lanun cutting at the English captain. He did not see whether or not any of the sailors were killed, but saved by his sacred character, the Lanuns did not meddle with him, and he hurried away into his boat, and the schooner was taken eastward. Sherif Musahor added, that he had received a letter about fourteen days before from Sherif Yasin, stating the men had brought the schooner to Benggaya, in Labuk Bay, and that he immediately seized it, after killing two of the pirates.

I heard, however, from Sherif Hasan that Yasin had divided the cargo among the Sulu rajahs of the river of Labuk and himself; and that at the latest dates Yasin had not destroyed the vessel, but had taken it up to the town, or rather village, of Benggaya. We talked a good deal over the affair, but nothing new came out of it, except that Musahor said he sent a message to Yasin to preserve the ship and cargo until news arrived from Labuan.

Steaming along the coast amid the shoals somewhat delayed our passage; but arriving off Benggaya we tried to find the river; in this we failed, but the following morning two canoes pulled off from shore, and on reaching us proved to contain some of the crew of the _Dolphin_, and a messenger from Sherif Yasin. The men said the vessel was safe up the river, and that the cargo was on board, and at the village and untouched, and that they themselves had been fed and well treated by the chief of Benggaya. Starting again, we found the entrance very shallow; but as the tide rose we entered and pulled up the stream. It might easily be passed, as the branch to the right appeared the broader of the two. To reach the houses it is necessary to keep the left-hand branches for about ten miles from the sea, and then the first to the right, and you arrive at the village after about twenty miles’ more pull.

The flood tide moved us lazily along by banks of the everlasting mangrove and nipa, occasionally diversified by a little high land with heavy jungle trees. As we advanced, we met a boat with Sherif Idrus, Yasin’s father-in-law, coming to meet us. I told him we would ascend to the village, and he preceded us. About sunset we reached the schooner, anchored in a narrow part of the river; a dozen of the Tuanku’s men were on guard, and we found the hatches nailed down, and the door of the cabin secured, to prevent the goods being meddled with; blood was sprinkled on the white paint in the cabin, and still darkly defaced the deck.

After a short conversation, I found that although the schooner was anchored above fifteen miles from the river’s mouth, the village was at least that distance farther off. To save a day, therefore, I determined to go up to the town myself that night in the Tuanku’s boat, and a friend accompanying me, we started. Before we stopped, I had reason to congratulate myself on my determination. Had we tried to ascend next day in the ship’s boats, we should scarcely have arrived by sunset, but a strong crew in a light canoe, pulling hard, enabled us to reach Benggaya village about half-past nine. The moon shone brightly through the trees, casting a clear light over a scene sufficiently curious. The narrow river was spanned by a light, rough wooden bridge, a shade better than a Dayak one. A few houses well lighted were on the opposite bank to the large dwelling of the chief. Sherif Idrus took us by the hand and led us up to Sherif Yasin, who begged us to be seated. It was the first time since a memorable occasion that he had seen an European. The room was very large, being, in fact, the principal portion of the house; there was a raised sleeping place on one side, and before us was the chief’s bed, where his women were hidden by a curtain that fell round it. The Sherif sat on the end, and we opposite, on boards covered with white cloth.

Yasin was a young man, pale, with a dissipated look, but quiet and pleasant in his manners. He was clothed in a short dark cloak with arms, a dress peculiar to the people on this coast, half Chinese, half European. We entered into conversation on various subjects, but principally about piracy and his recapture of the English schooner. Of this he gave the following account. That having heard there was a ship off the entrance of the river, he made inquiries of a Lanun who had just come up to the village. The man said the schooner was his; afterwards he wished to make out he had captured it from the Spaniards, but the Tuanku being informed that it was an English vessel, endeavoured to seize the Lanun, but he resisted and escaped into the jungle, persuading the Portuguese cook and a Lascar to follow him. The Tuanku then sent down a strong force to retake the schooner, which he succeeded in doing; the only men who showed resistance were two Lanuns, whom he put to death for killing the white men; the Sulus he could not kill, as that might have excited the resentment of the Sulu rajahs. He brought the vessel up the river, and put a strong guard in her, fearing the Lanuns would return, Memadam, of Tungku, having threatened to come back and recapture the schooner.

All present made great complaints of Tungku and other pirate places, saying it was impossible to carry on their trade in safety. Tuanku Yasin had only lately come to Benggaya from Labuk river; he intended opening a new country; he would have lived on the sea coast, but feared piratical attacks. Such was the account he rendered. He furnished us with supper, cooked by my servant, Ali; omelettes, stews, sliced sweet potatoes, rice, soup, which we enjoyed, and a bottle of wine made the meal complete.

Tuanku Yasin had unfortunately taken to opium, and this drug is doubtless the cause of his dissipated look. When I asked him whether we were the first Europeans he had met, he smilingly answered no, he had seen them once before. I afterwards found he had been a backer of Sherif Usman’s, and had defended the Maludu forts with great bravery, being the last man to quit the guns, and then only when the English force had cut away the boom and penetrated to the defences.

About one we intimated a desire to retire, and a comfortable raised sleeping place was provide for us, at the end of which three young chiefs slept with drawn krises, a guard of honour, I suppose, over us. Some of the people had never seen a white face before, and the town was in alarm, fearing all the sailors were about to ascend.

_Nov. 1st._--At daylight I was up, writing out depositions, when I observed a number of men lounging near with lighted cigars; I drew my companion’s attention to the fact that these Sulus were actually smoking whilst leaning over twenty-five barrels of gunpowder. Soon after Tuanku Yasin made his appearance. He brought out the portion of the cargo which he had stowed away in his inner room, consisting of arms, guns, powder, cloths, and a number of small articles. After a good breakfast, and a friendly parting, we started. Argus pheasants were very numerous in the woods, and Sherif Yasin had constructed a large aviary under his house in which he had about ten or twelve, and he presented me with a very handsome pair. The men who manned the canoe placed at our disposal by Sherif Yasin, pulled down with the ebb at a good pace, and yet we did not reach the schooner until about ten, three hours’ rapid moving, perhaps above fifteen miles. The river winds in the most extraordinary manner; one place, divided now but by heavy drift, took us a two miles’ turn to arrive at the opposite side. We found the ship’s boats pulling up to meet us, thinking, as we had not returned that some accident had happened. Got the schooner under weigh, and then started in the cutter, reaching the steamer about seven.

_3rd._--Having prepared the schooner for sea, we set off, towing her part of the way on her voyage back. A fleet of boats was reported ahead; all rushed on deck, thinking they might be the Lanuns about to attack Benggaya. I went up, and looking through the spy-glass, they appeared war-boats of large size. We steamed towards them; they drew up on the beach, and presently we saw the crews hurrying with their goods on shore; as we neared, they gradually appeared smaller and smaller; we had, in fact, been completely deceived by their looming over the waters. When abreast of them we anchored, and I went off in the gig to see who they were, intending to hail them and speak; but as we drew near our guides declared they were Baju boats, and this we soon found to be the case. They were small, neatly constructed, and fitted up for the residence of a family.

As we closed with the beach we waved a white handkerchief to them, and hailed; presently three men showed themselves, and came to us. One was a Sulu; two others were Bajus. They were rather big men, featured much like the Dayaks. They came from Banguey, and were bringing new boats to sell to Sherif Yasin. I invited them to come on board; they said they were in a great state of alarm, and men, women, and children rushed into the jungle, hiding their goods, as the Sulu man thought we might be Spaniards. They afterwards came on board. We inquired about clamp shells (the _Concha gigas_). They had never seen any longer than two feet. These Bajus were going to collect pearls at Lingkabu for the sultan of Sulu, who had made a contract to furnish some, I believe, to Mr. Wyndham. These men had never lived in houses.

I may conclude the story of the capture and recapture of the _Dolphin_ schooner, by observing that an attempt was made to enter into communication with the Lanuns of Tungku, who, however, instead of respecting the white flag, fired on us, causing us some loss; we destroyed a few of their villages, but being only a desultory operation, it had no permanent effect. The British Government, hearing of the good conduct of Sherif Yasin, rewarded him liberally.

I have referred to those Baju boats going to Lingkabu, off the mouth of the Labuk river, to fish for pearls. The Sulu Archipelago furnishes, probably, a greater number of beds of valuable oysters than any other part of the world, and would, no doubt, be exceedingly productive, if proper measures were taken to develope them. At present, however, the natives confine themselves to dredging with what has been aptly described as the fluke of a wooden anchor, and consequently obtain but few. In shallower water, they occasionally dive, but are not sufficiently practised to do so when the sea is eight fathoms deep. I heard of an Englishman endeavouring to send down men with a regular diving helmet, but it was said he found that the current was so strong as to prevent the air passing down the tubes, by flattening them; but there must have been some mismanagement.

Occasionally some very fine pearls are obtained, and brought to Labuan for sale; I heard of one which was remarkably large and well shaped, purchased by the Hon. George Edwardes, late Governor of Labuan, and was pronounced, by all who saw it in the East, as the best that ever had been brought under their notice. I have seen very handsome ones myself, some perfectly round, others slightly pear-shaped.

The natives tell a story of a certain datu, who was a great trader, and fond of sailing a prahu from Sulu to Manilla; during the course of his voyages, he made the acquaintance of an English merchant, who had, on various occasions, trusted him with goods and treated him very liberally, not an unusual circumstance in the East. At last the datu took to gambling, and squandered all his property, sold his houses, his slaves, and at last lost a large sum, and was obliged to place his wife and children in pawn as security. The only property he had preserved was a favourite slave boy, and with him he started in a small canoe to the oyster-banks. There they remained fishing, and had varied success, but every day increasing the amount in the hollow bamboo in which the natives generally keep their small seed pearls. In the evenings the datu would talk over the tales they had heard from other fishermen, and the chief delighted to recount the story of the vast pearl which was seen by the men of old, and actually brought in its oyster into a canoe, but had slipped from the fingers of the incautious captor. The natives declare that the oysters containing the largest pearls are always open, until you approach them, and that by cautiously peering into the water, they may be seen.

One day the slave boy was preparing to dive, when he started back, touched his master’s sleeve, and with signs of great emotion pointed into the water; he could not speak. The datu looked, and there, seven fathoms below them, lay an oyster, with an enormous pearl distinctly visible. Without a moment’s reflection, he plunged in, and dived with such skill and speed, that he reached the shell before it closed, and actually had his fingers caught in it. He thrust hand and shell into his bosom, and, being an expert swimmer, rose quickly to the surface, and was helped into the boat by his anxious follower. They then forced open the oyster, and there lay a pearl, unsurpassed in size and of an extraordinary shape; they pulled back to Sugh, and selling all his smaller pearls, the datu redeemed his wife and children, and set sail for Manilla. There he went to the house of his English friend and said, “Take this pearl, clear off my debt, give me what you like in return, I shall be satisfied.” The merchant took the pearl, gave him what he considered its value, at all events, enough to make Sulu ring with his generosity, and sent the pearl to China, and what became of it I never could distinctly trace; but I heard that what was called the “Mermaid Pearl” in Bengal originally came from China, and the Sulus say their one was like the body of a woman.

It is a very curious superstition in those countries, that if you place gold or pearls in a packet by themselves, they will certainly decrease in quantity or in number, and, in the end, totally disappear; but if you add a few grains of rice, the treasure is safe. With pearls they always do so, under the impression that they not only preserve the amount but actually increase the number. I have never yet seen a native open a packet of gold or pearls, or any precious stones, without noticing some grains of rice.

The instances I have given of piracy are merely referred to, to show what kind of mischief the pirates commit. I am aware they are not very modern instances, but they were fresh when I wrote them in my journal, and the same system is still pursued, though not to the same extent; but I may add a few remarks on the present state of piracy on the northern coast of Borneo. Once a year a fleet of Balignini pass down the coast on their outward voyage, or running before the south-west monsoon on their return home. In the month of July, 1861, a squadron of private prahus coming up from the southward, sailed across the deep Bay of Sarawak, and their light boats had a slight skirmish with a weakly manned Sarawak gunboat, but directly they found a twelve-pounder shot passing close to them, they pulled back to their consorts, as it is a maxim with them to avoid all encounters where blows are likely to be obtained, as they say, “We seek to plunder, not to fight.” Continuing their course they reached Point Sirik, and there captured a boat containing several of our Indian British subjects, and giving Labuan a wide berth picked up a few fishermen off Mengkabong, and at last reached Maludu Bay. Here they met some trading prahus from Sulu, and with them they held friendly intercourse.

On board the Balignini prahus was a respectable native named Inchi Ngah, from one of the Dutch settlements on the west coast of Borneo, who had been captured off Pontianak: he immediately recognized some fellow-countrymen on board the Sulu prahus, who had been missing from their homes above a year. He now learnt that they had been captured by the Balignini during the year 1860, and had been taken to Sulu; that there the sultan, finding they were of high rank, had interested himself in their case, and taken care of them, and had now sent them back to Borneo as passengers, on board a Sulu trader on his way to Labuan. Inchi Ngah begged they would ransom him, but they had no property. At last they persuaded the Sulu trader to do it for them, and Inchi Ngah was once more a free man. They arrived in Labuan the latter end of August, just as the _Rainbow_ steamer was about to start for Sarawak, and hearing that the great friend of the Malay race was on board, they came and laid their case before him. As he never refused his assistance where it was possible, he not only gave them all passages to Sarawak, but refunded to the Sulu trader the money he had advanced to ransom Inchi Ngah.

Having been a fellow-passenger with these men, I had many opportunities of conversing with them, and they told me that when they were taken there were already a hundred and fifty captives on board the boats, and that the Balignini who captured them came from two places on the chief island of the Archipelago--Sulu itself--and that the names of their settlements were Dundong, and the little river of Kabungkul. They added, that the Balignini, in order to preserve themselves from attack, now always chose spots which were too shallow for steamers or men-of-war to approach, that these two settlements had to be reached through intricate channels leading through a mangrove swamp, and that the houses were completely hidden by the trees.

A mangrove swamp is one of the most unpleasant things to cross, and, therefore, affords great protection to settlements built within its mazes. The mangrove tree always grows in salt or very brackish water, and its roots lift it several feet above the soil, allowing the tides to flow freely between them: at high water canoes can be pulled among the trees, but at low tide it presents a tangled but open bunch of roots to each separate tree, and it can only be passed by springing from one slippery root to another, and by the assistance of the branches. The mangrove trees at a distance look to an unpractised eye much like other jungle, only they are of a more uniform height and appearance; yet the colour of their leaves can never be mistaken.

The fact that these Balignini have settled on the island itself, shows either that the sultan is indifferent to the spread of piracy, or is unable to check his subjects. But the fact is, probably, that as piracy is not looked upon as a dishonourable pursuit, native princes only discountenance it when they are under the dread of its drawing on them the vengeance of an European power. The principal other positions held by the Balignini, as I have elsewhere observed, are Binadan and Tawee Tawee.

The system pursued by the Balignini is admirably adapted for their purpose; although they cruise in large prahus, yet to each they have three or four attendant fast boats, and when they wish to surprise unwary fishermen, they anchor their large vessels out of sight of land, and send in the others to make captures; the most curious instrument they employ is a kind of huge double-pronged fork, with barbed ends, which they push over the neck of a flying enemy, and effectually stop his movements.

A few years ago, some followers of Amba de Rajah, a Bornean, residing in Sarawak, were pulling along the shore, when they suddenly came upon a Balignini fast boat; they immediately turned and fled, and were followed by the pirates, who shouted to them to surrender, but the Borneans took no notice. The chief of the Balignini kept up a fire from his rifle at the fugitives, and at last hit the steersman in the side, who took no notice, but continued to urge on the others to renewed exertions: again and again he was struck, but did not drop his paddle, but continued the flight; at last a large trading boat coming in sight, the pirates gave up the pursuit, and the Borneans escaped. The brave fellow, who received the three wounds without flinching, though he suffered much, yet eventually recovered, and I afterwards saw him in Sarawak.

The Lanuns, though fiercer and more warlike pirates, have ceased for several years to infest the north-west coast, but have more confined their cruises to the neighbourhood of the Spanish and Dutch settlements.

I was once very much interested by hearing a Dayak converse of the times when he went out with the Lanun pirates. We had just returned to Sarawak from a mission to the Court of Siam, and were visiting the Sibuyau Dayaks of Meradang, when the chief asked us where we had been. The rajah answered, To Siam. Immediately an intelligent-looking Dayak said, “I know Siam, and the country of Annam as well, for I in former years used to go there in the pirate boats.”

On inquiry we found that when the Lanun fleets came down this coast, they had numerous places where they received a hearty welcome, among others at Sadong: the Sibuyaus were employed by them to row their boats under a promise of receiving the heads of all the slain, and a very small share of the plunder. Many of those present had been out with the pirates along the coasts of Cochin China, Cambodia, Siam, and down the Malay Peninsula as far as Singapore. But the tables were subsequently turned, and the Lanuns preyed on their former allies. After our attack on Tungku, a man came off to us, and proved to be a captive taken at Sadong, but he evidently did not dislike his present position, as he went ashore again under the pretence of collecting other fugitives, and we saw no more of him; most probably he had married in the country. I have often heard the natives speak of a captain of an English man-of-war, named Morris, who committed suicide after an unsuccessful attack on the Lanun pirates at Sambas, about the year 1812, but I have never been able to verify the story.

Steamers, however, are beginning to disgust them with the life, and if a little combined and active effort were made by our steam gunboats, in conjunction with those of the Dutch and Spaniards, piracy might be effectually suppressed. Traders who were accustomed to the Sulu seas used to speak of the little island of Sarañgani, off the coast of Magindanau, as a mart where the pirates assembled to sell the captured slaves to those traders who frequented that port, and the latter were generally from Sulu, though occasionally a few Bagis prahus came in to purchase the women and children, but it is possible that many changes have since taken place.

I have before observed that Sulu was a great slave mart, and that pirates and slave-dealers of every kind were accustomed to resort there: it is not surprising, therefore, that the Spaniards should organize an attack upon it, but it was unfortunate that this attack should take place immediately after the sultan of Sulu had signed a treaty with the English, and I have little doubt that the object could have been better effected by a regular surveillance. But the Spanish authorities thought differently, and early in 1851 they sent to make demands on the sultan, and on these not being immediately complied with, the men-of-war opened fire upon the town, which was promptly replied to by the shore batteries. I saw a letter from the sultan of Sulu, recounting this engagement. He said that after “an awful cannonading, by the blessing of God we disabled two of their vessels, and they retired.”

But this was only a preliminary attack. In the following month a large naval force came down from Manilla, with seventeen hundred troops, and landing near the great tree at the watering-place, marched upon the town while the ships shelled it from the harbour. The Sulus behaved with great courage, and though opposed to regular soldiers, and defending a comparatively unprotected part of the town, as they had reckoned on an attack by sea, and not by land; they held their own for several hours, and it cost their enemy one hundred and fifty killed and wounded before they abandoned their houses and retired to the hills.

Datu Daniel and his brothers defended their stockade to the last, and it was here that the Spanish suffered their severest loss; several of the young Sulu nobles were killed, and the stockade carried by assault. The Spanish troops behaved very well. The town was then garrisoned, but it would have taken an army to subdue the whole island, as on losing Sugh, the sultan and his ministers retired to the mountains, where the Spanish forces found it impracticable to follow them. A kind of truce was patched up, but they have refused to acknowledge the supremacy of Spain, and have removed the seat of government beyond the reach of ships’ artillery, and I saw a letter from the sultan, in which he said he would rather die than hoist the Castilian flag. Last year I heard the sultan was most anxious to send his sons to England to be educated, but had no means of accomplishing his wish. The Spaniards soon found their conquest a very unprofitable one, as they only held those spots which were actually in the possession of their troops; they soon, therefore, abandoned the island, though they for some years had a garrison, I heard, on the little island of Tulyan.

I pitied the sultan and his nobles, as with all their faults they were capable of much better things, and had a little judicious influence been used to guide them well, and a little power exercised to destroy the actual pirate haunts, there would have been no occasion to destroy the pretty town of Sugh.

I do not think I have mentioned elsewhere, that when I first saw this picturesque island, there was a forest, dead in appearance, on the right hand of the town, covering the slopes of one of the high hills. This was an extensive wood of fine teak trees. A long drought had rendered everything as dry as touchwood, when an incautious islander lit a fire among the trees, and the dead leaves and twigs around being perfectly dry soon ignited, and the flames spread in every direction, and charred and burnt the trees, stripping them of their luxuriant foliage; but five months after, I again visited this spot, and found that many of the apparently dead trees were now putting forth buds and young leaves, as the fire had not completely destroyed all.

It is a very singular circumstance that the teak is not found in any of the forests of Borneo, although in former days it was said to exist on the north-east coast, but I made very particular inquiries of the Sulus whom I found there, and they said they had never seen it except on their own island. It is a matter of regret, as although Borneo possesses some very fine woods, yet none equal to the teak.

Remembering Forest’s statement that elephants were found in his time in the forests which clothed so much of the soil of the island, I asked Datu Daniel about it; his answer was, that even within the remembrance of the oldest men then alive, there were still a few elephants left in the woods, but that, finding they committed so much damage to the plantations, the villagers had combined and hunted the beasts till they were all killed; I was pleased to find the old traveller’s account confirmed.

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