CHAPTER XXVIII

_DIDO_--BORNEO

[Sidenote: 1843. May 1.]

Embarked Rajah Brooke. Napier and W. H. Read on board to see him off. My _Dido_ now well manned. The crew require exercise, and will get it!

Good drill at general quarters.

[Sidenote: May 3.]

Hoisted pinnace out, which had been coppered at the expense of my zealous First.

[Sidenote: May 4.]

Came to under Camel Island. To think that for thousands of miles these seas should be infested by pirates! The sea as smooth as Spithead, with anchorages to be found in from 4 to 10 fathoms, the kedge affording sufficient holding.

Passed through the Tambilans, a beautiful group of about 150 small islands, thinly inhabited. They are so close together that after passing the first two or three we were to all appearance land-locked in a capacious harbour.

[Illustration: _Map--Eastern Archipelago; Map of Coast--Borneo._]

[Sidenote: May 5.]

Anchored off the Dutch end of the Island of Borneo, in the hope of surprising free-traders.

[Sidenote: May 6.]

The following morning we anchored off the mouth of the Sambas, and sent boats away to examine the creeks, islands, and rivers for traces of pirates, which were discovered by the remains of their cooking-fires, although no clue found as to where they had gone.

[Sidenote: May 8.]

Sent the pinnace and two cutters, with Partridge, D’Aeth, and Jenkins, and a week’s provisions, in charge of Lieutenant Wilmot Horton. The advice of Rajah Brooke, who not only knew the appearance of vessels used by pirates, but spoke the Malay language, was thankfully accepted.

They were directed to proceed to the Island of Murrundum, and, after visiting the South Natunas, to rejoin _Dido_ at Sarawak. In the meantime _Dido_ proceeded along the coast, anchoring when convenient, and finding regular soundings from 4 to 10 fathoms.

[Sidenote: May 9.]

On the morning of the 9th, on rounding Tanjong Datu, we opened suddenly on a suspicious-looking prahu, which, on making us out, ran for a deep bay, formed by Cape Datu and the next point to the eastward.

Standing a little further on, we saw her consort in the offing, likewise standing in-shore, and a third entered at the bottom of the bay.

From descriptions we had received, they were Illanuns, of whose daring adventures much had been written. They inhabit a cluster of islands on the north-east coast of Borneo, and go out in large fleets, chiefly to intercept traders bound to Singapore or the Straits. Their victims are bound for months, and crowded in the bottom of the prahus, where they suffer miseries worse than could be inflicted in an African slaver.

Having driven these worthies into a corner, and knowing that the only two small boats we had left would stand no chance with them, we loaded the guns, but, having no proper chart, proceeded with caution, feeling our way with the lead. When just within musket range we let go the anchor, which was no sooner done than the pirates made a move. We thought they were coming to sue for terms, but nothing was further from their intention. One pulled away close in-shore to the eastward, the others in the opposite direction. They were rowed by about forty paddles each. What rendered it ridiculous, owing to a strong tide, no gun could be brought to bear. By the time a warp was laid they were out of sight.

The dinghy and jolly-boat gave chase, but the pirates had the start as well as speed, and although before rounding the point a few men were seen to drop their paddles from our fire, their pace never slackened.

We could not help admiring their plucky plan of escape. To attempt to catch the boats that had pulled to windward was useless, but we lost no time in slipping our cable and making sail in chase. We had not wind enough, and lost sight of her at dusk off the mouth of a river.

We returned next morning to pick up our anchor. It was a place well adapted as a rendezvous for pirates. The bay we found studded with rocks, and to my horror I found that Her Majesty’s _Dido_ had anchored between two that were awash at low-water.

A mountain stream of delicious water runs into the bay between two rocks, and the coast abounds with oysters.

We anchored off Tanjong Poe, outside the bar at the entrance of the river leading to Rajah Brooke’s residence and seat of Government at Sarawak.

At half-tide on the following morning we crossed the bar, carrying no less than 3½ fathoms water, and entered the beautiful river of Morataba, up which we ran for twelve miles under sail.

_Dido_ was the first square-rigged vessel that had ever entered these waters. We came to off the junction river which unites the principal entrance to Sarawak.

It is here that the capital ought to have been built, and would have been but for the curse of piracy and its sequel, slavery.

In the evening our boats with the Rajah joined us, having come up by western entrance.

After leaving us on the 8th, they proceeded to the Island of Murrundum, a famous rendezvous, where they came on a fleet of the Illanun tribe, who did not give them an opportunity of closing, but, cutting their sampans adrift, made a precipitate flight; opening fire as they ran out on the opposite side of a small bay in which they had been refitting. This of course led to an exciting chase, a running fire kept up on both sides; but the range was too great, and the prahus, in addition to sailing well, were each propelled by from forty to fifty long paddles, and made their escape.

As they went in the direction of the Natunas, Horton took that course, and anchored under the south end in 3 fathoms water; but next morning, owing to the fall of tide, the pinnace had grounded. The Rajah and Horton proceeded in one of the cutters to reconnoitre. As they neared the south-west point, they were met by six prahus, beating tomtoms as they advanced, making demonstrations of fight. Horton judiciously turned to rejoin the other boats, and the pinnace having floated, he formed his little squadron in line abreast, and prepared to meet his antagonist.

Brooke, however, discovered that the fleet advancing were not Illanuns and fancied there must be some mistake. The Natunas people had been trading at Sarawak, and he was well acquainted with a powerful chief who resided on one of the Natuna group; he therefore raised a white handkerchief on his spy-glass, and from the bow of the pinnace waved, hailed, and gesticulated to warn them of their danger, but a discharge of small arms was the only reply. They then detached their smaller boats in-shore to cut off our retreat, and the rest advanced, beating tomtoms, and blazing away with all the confidence of victory. It was an anxious moment for _Dido’s_ small party; the only heavy gun of the pinnace was loaded with grape and canister, and kept pointed on the largest prahu. The men waited with their muskets for the order to fire. It was not until within pistol range that Horton poured into the enemy his well-prepared dose.

This brought them up; yet a few had the temerity to exchange shots for a couple of minutes. The largest prahu now called for quarter, while the other five made for the shore chased by the two cutters.

The prize proved to be a prahu mounting three brass guns, with a crew of thirty-six men, belonging to the Rajah of Rhio, which had been despatched by that chief to collect tribute about the Natuna group. They had ten men killed and eleven wounded (four of them mortally). They affected the greatest astonishment on discovering that our boats belonged to a British man-of-war, and stated that the island had lately been plundered by the Illanuns, for whom they had taken us; that the rising sun was in their eyes. Horton, thinking there might be some foundation for their story, let the surgeon, Simpson, and his assistant dress their wounds, and after admonishing them to be more careful in future, restored their boats, as well as the others which belonged to the islands. These in the meantime had been taken possession of by the cutters after they had reached the shore, and landed their killed and wounded, who were borne away so smartly by the natives that our men had no time to ascertain the number.

Three of the prahus belonged to the same fleet of Illanuns that escaped the _Dido_ off Cape Datu. It afforded some amusement to find among the slightly wounded our Rajah’s wealthy and respectable friend, who was not a little ashamed at being recognised.

Among the mortally wounded lay the young commander of the prahu, one of the finest forms of the human race, with a countenance to match. He was shot through the lungs, but made attempts to speak. His conquerors raised him gently into a sitting posture of comparative ease, but the end speedily came. He expired where I daresay his proudest and happiest moments had been passed.

We afterwards ascertained that the pirates believed that our boats were coming from a wreck on the south-east coast of the island, and were full of choice loot. Piracy is so inherent in a Malay that few can resist the temptation when an opportunity offers.

[Sidenote: Sarawak, May 17.]

On Rajah Brooke’s landing, astonished the natives by firing a salute from heavier guns than they, as yet, had ever heard.

During the morning large boats, some carrying as many as 200 people, had been coming down the river to hail Brooke’s return; and one of the greatest gratifications I had was in witnessing the undisguised delight, mingled with gratitude and respect, with which each headman welcomed their newly-elected ruler back to his adopted country.

Although many of the Malay chiefs had every reason to expect that in the _Dido_ they saw the means by which their misdeeds were to be punished, they showed their confidence in Mr. Brooke by bringing their children with them--a sign peculiar to the Malay.

The scene was both novel and exciting to us (just anchored in a large fresh-water river, and surrounded by a densely-wooded jungle); the whole surface of the water was covered with canoes and boats, dressed out with various-coloured silken flags, filled with natives beating their tomtoms, and playing on wild and not unpleasant-sounding wind instruments, varied by the occasional discharge of firearms.

To them it must have been equally striking and extraordinary (as few of them had ever seen any larger vessel than their own war-boats, or even a European, until Brooke’s arrival), to witness the _Dido_ anchored almost in the centre of their town, her mastheads towering above the trees of their jungle; to hear the loud report of her 32-pounder guns, and watch the running aloft to furl sails of 150 seamen, in their white dresses, the band playing, all which helped to make an impression that will not easily be forgotten.

The next business was my visit of ceremony to Rajah Muda Hassim, which was sport, though conducted in the most imposing manner.

The band, and the marines as a guard, having landed, we (the officers) assembled at Brooke’s house, where, having made ourselves as formidable as we could with swords and cocked hats, we marched in procession to the Royal residence.

His Highness sent one of his brothers to receive us, who led me by the hand into the Royal presence. The palace was a long low shed, built on piles, to which we ascended by a ladder. The audience-chamber was hung with red and yellow silk curtains, and round the back and one side of the platform occupied by the Rajah were ranged his Ministers, warriors, and men-at-arms, bearing swords, spears, shields, and other warlike weapons. Opposite to them were drawn up our Royal Marines, the contrast between the two bodyguards being amusing.

Muda Hassim was a wretched-looking little man. Still, there was a courteous and gentle manner about him that prepossessed us in his favour, and made us feel that we were before a Chief who had been accustomed to command.

We took our places in a semicircle, on seats provided for the occasion, smoked cigars and drank tea. His Highness chewed his sirih-leaf and betel-nut, seated with one leg crossed under him, and playing with his toes.

Very little is ever said during these audiences; so we sat staring at one another for half an hour, with mutual astonishment. After the usual compliments of wishing our friendship might last as long as the moon, and my having offered him the _Dido_, and everything else that did not belong to me, in exchange for his house, we took our leave.

[Sidenote: May 19.]

This was the day fixed for Muda Hassim’s visit to the _Dido_, about which he appeared anxious, as he had seldom been known to go beyond his own threshold.

For this ceremony all the boats, guns, tomtoms, flags, and population were put in requisition; and the procession to the ship was a gorgeous and amusing spectacle. We received him on board with a royal salute. He brought in his train a whole tribe of natural brothers. His guards and followers were strange enough, and far too numerous for the _Dido’s_ deck; but whether the most important personages of the realm were kept out we did not ascertain. One fellow succeeded in obtaining a footing with a large yellow silk canopy, a corner of which having run into the eye of one of the midshipmen, the bearer missed his footing, and down came the whole concern--as I was informed, by _accident_!

The party assembled in my cabin, and the remarks were few; nor did they manifest great astonishment at anything. In fact, a Malay never allows himself to be surprised. I believe, however, His Highness did not think much of my veracity when I informed him that this was not the largest ship belonging to Her Britannic Majesty, and that she had several mounting upwards of 100 guns. He admitted that he had seen a grander sight than any of his ancestors.

There was much distress depicted on the Royal countenance during his visit, which I afterwards ascertained was owing to his having been informed that he must not spit in my cabin.

On leaving the ship, whether the cherry-brandy he had taken made him forget his directions I do not know, but he squirted a mouthful of red betel-nut juice over the white deck, and then had the temerity to hold out his hand to the First Lieutenant!

This farce over, I had now some time to refit my _Dido_ in one of the prettiest spots on earth, and as unlike a dockyard as anything could be.

[Sidenote: May.]

Brooke’s residence, although equally rude in structure with the abodes of the natives, was not without its English comforts of sofas, chairs, bedsteads, and baths. It was larger than any other, but, like them, being built upon piles, we had to mount a ladder to get into it.

It was situated on the same side of the river (the left bank), next to, but rather in the rear of, Muda Hassim’s palace, with a clear space of about 150 yards between the back and the edge of the jungle.

Palisades and a ditch, surrounding the building, formed a protection to sheep, goats, occasionally bullocks, pigeons, cats, poultry, geese, monkeys, dogs and ducks, and snakes.

The house consisted of but one floor. A large room in the centre, neatly ornamented with every description of firearms, in admirable order, served as an audience and mess-room.

The various apartments round it served as bedrooms, most of them comfortably furnished with matted floors, easy-chairs, pictures, and books, with much more taste and attention to comfort than bachelors usually display.

The Europeans with Mr. Brooke consisted of Mr. Bloomfield Douglas, formerly in the Navy, a clever young surgeon, and a gentleman of the name of Williamson, who, being master of the native language, as well as active and intelligent, made an excellent Prime Minister.

Besides these were two others who came out in Brooke’s yacht--one an old man-of-war’s man, who kept the arms in first-rate condition, and another worthy character called Charlie, who looked after the accounts and had charge of everything. These were attended by servants of different nations.

The cooking establishment was perfect, and the utmost harmony prevailed. The great feeding-time was at sunset, when Brooke took his seat at the head of the table, and all the establishment, as in days of yore, seated themselves according to their respective grades.

[Illustration: Dido _at Sarawak_.]

This hospitable board was open to all the officers of the _Dido_, and many a jovial evening we spent there.

Before we left Singapore Mr. Whitehead had kindly offered his yacht, the _Emily_, a schooner of 50 tons, with a native crew, to bring our letters to Borneo, on the arrival of the mail from England. After our short experience, I thought it advisable to send a boat to cruise in the neighbourhood of Cape Datu; _Dido’s_ largest boat being under repair, Brooke lent one he had built at Sarawak, called the _Jolly Bachelor_. Having fitted her with a brass 6-pounder and a volunteer crew of a mate, two mids, six marines and twelve seamen, and fortnight’s provisions, the Second Lieutenant, Hunt, was well pleased at getting the command. His orders were to cruise, keep a good look-out for the _Emily_ yacht, and escort her into Sarawak, but he was on no account to land; Douglas volunteered his services in case an interpreter should be required.

It appears that the day after they sailed they chased three sail in the distance, without nearing them; they appeared a second and third time after dusk with same result. It now being late, the crew fatigued and hungry, Hunt pulled in-shore, lighted a fire, cooked their provisions, and then hauled her out to her grapnel near some rocks for the night. They laid down to rest with their arms by their sides, ready loaded. The marines’ muskets were stopped up and down the mainmast. The boat had a small forecastle as well as an extended decked stern over the rudder-head, which held the commander. Having appointed look-out men, I suppose owing to the fatigues of the day, they one and all fell asleep.

About 3 A.M., the moon rising, Hunt, happening to awake, observed a savage brandishing a kris and performing his war-dance on the bit of deck forward in an ecstasy of delight, thinking, in all probability, of the ease in which he had got possession of a fine trading-boat, and calculating the value of white slaves he would have to dispose of; little dreaming of the hornets’ nest into which he had fallen. Jim Hunt’s round fat face meeting the light of the rising moon, without a turban surmounting it, was the first notice the pirate had of his mistake.

He immediately plunged overboard, and before Hunt had sufficiently recovered his astonishment to know whether he was dreaming or not, or to arouse the crew, a discharge from three or four cannon within a few yards, and the cutting through the rigging of various missiles with which the guns were loaded, convinced him of his disobedience of orders.

It was as well the men were still lying down, as not one was hurt, but on jumping up they found themselves closely pressed by two large war prahus--one on each bow. To return the fire, cut the cable, man the oars, and back astern to gain room, was the work of a minute. But now came the tug-of-war. It was a case of life or death.

Our men fought as British sailors ought; quarter was not expected on either side, and the quick and deadly aim of the Royal Marines prevented the pirates from re-loading.

The Illanun prahus are built with strong bulwarks or barricades, grapeshot-proof, across the fore part of their boats, through which ports are cut; these bulwarks had to be cut away by round shot from the _Jolly Bachelor’s_ brass 6-pounder before the musketry could bear effectually. This done, our grape and canister told with fearful execution. In the meantime, the pirates had been pressing forward to board while _Jolly Bachelor_ backed astern. As soon as this service was performed, the few men so employed dropped their oars and resumed their muskets. The work was sharp and short, but the slaughter great.

While one pirate prahu was sinking, and an effort made to secure her, the other effected an escape by getting round the point of rocks where a third and larger prahu, hitherto unseen, came to her assistance and took her in tow.

Although subsequently chased by the _Jolly Bachelor_, they escaped. While setting fire to the captured prahu, which had some 3 feet of blood and water in her, a slave swam off who had escaped during the fight, and informed our men that the three prahus were the same the _Dido_ had seen off Cape Datu; they had, including slaves, from fifty to sixty men each on board.

[Sidenote: May 21.]

The day fixed for my receiving an important letter from Rajah Muda Hassim. Officers and self assembled with much ceremony at Brooke’s hall of audience, where I found assembled all the chiefs and a crowd of natives, many of whom had already been informed that the said letter was a requisition for me to assist in putting down the hordes of pirates who had so long infested the coast. I believe many of those present, especially the Borneans, to have been casually concerned, if not deeply implicated, in some of their transactions. After I had taken my seat with Brooke, at the head of the table, the Rajah’s sword-bearers entered, clearing the way for the huge yellow canopy, under the shade of which, on a large brass tray, and carefully sewn up in a yellow silk bag, was the letter, from which it was removed and placed in my hands by the Pangeran Budrudeen (the Rajah’s brother). I opened the bag with my knife, and handing it to an interpreter, he read it aloud in the Malayan tongue. It was variously received by the audience, many of whose countenances were far from prepossessing.

Following is a copy of the letter, to which was attached the Rajah’s seal:--

This friendly Epistle, having its source in a pure mind, comes from Rajah Muda Hassim, next in succession to the Royal Throne of the Kingdom of Borneo, and who holds his Court at the trading city of Sarawak, to our friend Henry Keppel, head Captain of the war-frigate of Her Britannic Majesty, renowned throughout all countries, who is valiant and discreet, and endowed with a mild and gentle nature.

This is to inform our friend that there are certain great pirates of the people of Sarebas and Sakarran in our neighbourhood seizing goods and murdering people on the high seas. They have more than three hundred war prahus, and extend their ravages even to Bangermussim. They are not subject to the Government of Bruni (Borneo). They take much plunder from vessels trading between Singapore and the good people of our country. It would be a great service if our friend would adopt measures to put an end to these piratical outrages. We can present nothing better to our friend than a kris, such as it is.

_20th day of Rabiul Akhir, 1257._

To which I sent the following reply:--

Captain Keppel begs to acknowledge the receipt of the Rajah Muda Hassim’s letter, representing that the Dyaks of Sarebas and Sakarran are the pirates who invest the coast of Borneo and do material damage to the trade of Singapore. Captain Keppel will take speedy measures to suppress these and all other pirates, and feels confident that Her Britannic Majesty will be glad to learn that the Rajah Muda Hassim is ready to co-operate in so laudable an undertaking.

Not being prepared for the Oriental fashion of exchanging presents, I had nothing to offer, but I found afterwards that Mr. Brooke had (unknown to me) sent a clock in my name.

The Royal kris was handsome--handle of carved ivory, with a good deal of gold about it. My son has it.

This letter of the Rajah’s gave me a good excuse of putting in motion the small preparations I, with Brooke’s assistance and advice, had been quietly making. We determined on attacking the pirates in their strongholds, commencing with the Sarebas. Brooke (the Tuan Besar), going to join personally in a war against such opponents who had never been conquered, although repeatedly attacked by the united forces of the surrounding Rajahs, was strongly opposed by the Datus. But Brooke having informed them that he should go, the reply was, “If you die, we die; what is the use of our remaining?”

Brooke and I attended in my six-oared gig, which had been covered in like a native boat with _kadjang_, the mast and oars landed. The crew, which was increased by two, propelled her by paddles facing forward; each paddle was stopped by a lanyard to the brass rowlock. Each man was provided with a carbine. I had with the pennant in the bow the master of the band with his bugle, who could sound my whereabouts. Horton ascended the Sarebas River with ten boats, the lighter ones fitted much the same as my gig.

[Sidenote: May 24.]

The capital and stronghold of the pirates was some seventy miles up, where they had gone to receive us; and with our large following of natives with stores and provisions, there was no hurry. Wherever we landed we appeared to be welcome. We brought up for the night off a creek which led to a Chinese settlement. The chief of the Kongsee came off to do homage to “Datu Brooke.” A different tribe of Dyaks inhabit the Sarebas Mountain, gorgeous in feathers and scarlet. We did not expect a road, but a number of these natives kindly shouldered our small bags and provisions. I, for one, was not prepared for the dance led us by our wild-cat-like guides, through thick jungle, and alternately over rocky hills and the thick marshes we had to cross. If we attempted to stop, many a fall and flounder in the mud was the consequence. The ascent of the hill, although steep, was strikingly beautiful. Our resting-places few; but when we did reach one, the cool, fresh breeze, and the increasing extent and variety of scene, embracing as it did river, mountain, wood, and sea, amply repaid the exertion of the climb. On either hand we were sure of a cool rivulet tumbling over the rocks. While going up, our care and attention was requisite to secure our safety; for it is not only one continued climb up ladders, but _such_ ladders!--made of the single trunk of a tree in its rough and rounded state, with notches, not cut with the reasonable distance of the ratlines of our rigging, but requiring the knee to be brought level with the chin before the feet are sufficiently parted to reach from one step to another; and that when the muscles of the thigh begin to ache, and the wind is pumped out of the body. We mounted in this manner some 500 feet. We were received in one of the circular halls of these Dyaks, hung round with hundreds of human heads, most of them dried with the skin and hair on. To give them, if possible, a more ghastly appearance, small shells (the cowry) are inserted where the eyes once were. Tufts of dry grass protruded from the ears.

But my eyes soon got accustomed to the sight, and by the time our meal was ready we did not mind dining in the scullery. Of course the natives crowded round us; with these people it was as with the more civilised--curiosity was strongest in the gentler sex.

[Sidenote: May 25.]

Having returned to our boats, moved up another branch of the river, and, with the chance of some deer-shooting, landed under a group of shady trees. The distance we had to walk to our game our guides considered nothing: some five miles through jungle.

Just before sunset we came to a jungle which opened on a swamp of long rank grass. Leeches abounded, getting up one’s legs and down one’s socks. They caused no pain when they caught on, but on taking off our shoes we frequently found them saturated with blood.

The guide having made signs for me to advance, after some trouble, watching the direction of his finger, I observed the heads of two deer just above the grass about 60 yards distant. From the manner the doe was moving about her long ears, it had, to my view, all the appearance of a rabbit.

Shooting for the pot, I selected her. As I fired, two of my boat’s crew dashed into the grass, and within a moment were up to their chins in mud and water. We had some difficulty in dragging them out.

Our Malay guide reached the deer from the opposite side, taking care to utter the prayer and cut the throat with the head in the direction of the Prophet’s tomb. The doe was struck just below the ear, and my native companions appeared astonished at the distance and deadly effect with which my smooth-bore Westley-Richards had conveyed the ball.

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