CHAPTER XXXIX

_MÆANDER_--CRUISING

[Sidenote: 1848. Labuan, Dec. 3.]

Sir James Brooke had duties to perform as Her Majesty’s Commissioner to the Sultan of Borneo, and the Chiefs of the Malayan Archipelago; but he was only able to indicate to me the direction he wished to go.

Our chief object being the restoration of his health, we managed, by keeping the ship under easy sail during the day, and anchoring in the evening, to give him the advantage of undisturbed rest at night.

Among the invalids were the A.D.C., Captain Brooke, poor Dr. Treacher, a mere shadow of what he was, young Charles Grant, and the good-tempered Spenser St. John, whose kindness to the sick had been unabated.

[Sidenote: Dec. 4.]

Weighed at daylight, and with fair wind, smooth water, and fine weather, coasted along in the direction of Pulo Tiga, the scenery increasing in beauty as we got to the northward.

Running between Pulo Tiga and Tanjong Klias, we shaped a course for the Kimanis River, up which there was a fine old Orang Kaya (chief man), Istur by name, a friend of our Rajah. It was dark when we came to. This was formerly a great haunt of the Illanuns and other pirates.

[Illustration: Map--Eastern Archipelago.]

[Sidenote: Dec. 5.]

Having obtained the necessary information from native fishing boats, sent the second gig up the river to inform the Orang Kaya of the Rajah’s arrival, as well as to solicit a pilot for the River Mengatal.

I had intended to go up in the cool of the evening, but in the afternoon the unusual appearance, in these waters, of a boat with a European sail was reported, coming along shore. She proved to belong to the _Minerva_ schooner, bringing the master and mate of that vessel, which they had left on a coral bank near Balambangan.

In the master, Lonsdale, I recognised an old acquaintance, who formerly commanded the _Maria_, one of the transports under convoy of the _Dido_ during the Chinese war. He stated that, having run on the reef, and finding that his vessel could not be got off without being lightened, he was throwing her cargo of teak overboard when he observed several prahus coming out from under a point of land. Having no arms he had taken to his long-boat, with the few valuables he could hastily collect, manned by his Lascar crew, making eighteen in all.

Ten of the Lascars afterwards left him on his landing at a part of the island for fuel and water. He then went on, intending to coast down as far as Labuan.

While at morning quarters, off Kimanis, a swarm of bees, attracted perhaps by the sound of the band, came round the ship, and finally settled on the under quarter of the cross-jack-yard, presenting an extraordinary appearance. By clinging to one another, they formed themselves into a bag 12 or 14 inches deep, the mouth of which, attached to the cross-jack-yard, occupied a space of about 2 feet in length by 1 wide, which was shaken and moved by the wind.

Fearing that the men might get stung on going aloft, I tried to dislodge the bees, first by discharging a musket with a double charge of coarse powder at them from the mizzen-rigging, within 4 yards.

This having no effect, it was fired at the same distance with a charge of sand, by which a few fell. The vacancies were immediately filled up, and the bag seemed to stick closer than ever.

They remained two days, during which time we were twice under way, making and shortening sail, in each of which operations the chain topsail sheet ran through the centre of the bag and disturbed large portions of them in its passage; but the bees returned and repaired the damage as soon as the sheet or clew line had been belayed.

The disaster of the _Minerva_ induced me to defer our visit to the village, in order that we might repair to the scene of the wreck and render assistance.

[Sidenote: Dec. 8.]

Early the following morning, having hoisted the boat on board, we weighed with a fresh southerly wind, along the coast, a couple of miles off-shore, with the noble mountain of Kina-Balu in the background raising its magnificent head above the clouds.

[Illustration: _Kina-Balu._]

[Sidenote: Dec. 9.]

Nothing could be finer than the scene before us; our poor invalids were much too ill to enjoy it, but this was the first day in which I had been able to discover the slightest improvement in Brooke’s condition.

As might be supposed, when we found the wreck, not only had she been completely gutted, but burned to the water’s edge, for the sake of the copper and iron bolts. We saw, in fact, native boats in the distance making off with the plunder.

The appearance of Balambangan is far from inviting, and the approaches to it are shoal and intricate.

Weighed, and stood into Malludu Bay. On our way we fell in with a native prahu, belonging to Seriff Hussein, a son of the unfortunate Seriff Osman, who made such a gallant resistance in August 1845 up the Malludu River, when attacked by the boats of the _Vestal_, Captain Talbot.

[Sidenote: Dec. 10.]

Seriff Hussein was reticent on his first interview with Rajah Brooke, but opened out more fully on his second visit. He and the chiefs with him complained of the unprotected state and want of government under which they lived. Each petty chief quarrelled with and attacked his weaker neighbours, while they in turn lived in constant dread of an attack from the more formidable Bajow or Sulu pirates.

These people were particularly obliging and civil, and sent their men to show us the best shooting-ground, rather appearing to like our visit, though we were not long enough together to establish implicit confidence.

Having pulled and poled over a bar, and up a shallow salt-water creek, on the east side of the bay, a little to the northward of where we were anchored, we landed a small shooting party, and were shown some particularly likely-looking ground, covered with long grass and intersected in all directions by the fresh tracks of wild cattle. A hog was the result of our sport; but three large deer made their appearance on the edge of the jungle, just as the guns had been discharged at our less-dignified game.

[Sidenote: Dec. 11.]

With our tender, _Jolly Bachelor_, in company, we weighed and stood towards the Island of Mallewali and soon entered among the dangers of the Sulu Seas.

As far as the eye could reach from the masthead, patches of sand and coral banks were visible, but the weather was fine, the water smooth and clear; time our own, and with our tender sounding ahead, we proceeded, nothing daunted by appearances. We could always pick our way by daylight and anchor at sunset.

Mallewali is surrounded by coral reefs and sandbanks. There appears to be a fine harbour to the eastward, but certainly no safe entrance for a ship the size of _Mæander_.

Exploring parties landed and the island was well traversed, but no traces of inhabitants were seen, and only rumours of tracks of game.

[Sidenote: Mallewali, Dec. 13.]

At 10 A.M. expired, in the prime of life, one of our finest young men, John Jago, another victim to Labuan fever; he had several times rallied, but two days previous to his death he sent to take leave of me, and I was some time endeavouring to cheer him up.

The sick were suspended in cots on both sides of the main-deck; and when a death occurred it was difficult to hide from the others what had taken place.

Jago was the last of the barge’s crew who was taken ill, and had attended most of his shipmates through their attacks of fever. There was a happy expression of countenance and a generosity about this poor fellow that had endeared him to officers and men. He left me the address of his mother, and of a young girl to whom he was betrothed.

[Sidenote: Dec. 15.]

[Sidenote: Sulu, Dec. 18.]

We weighed as soon as the sun was high enough to show us the dangers, standing under easy sail to the eastward, with _Jolly Bachelor_ sounding ahead. After some little difficulty in winding the ship between the shoals, and an occasional scrape on some projecting point of coral that had outgrown the bed to which it belonged, we made Cagayan Sulu on the 18th, but before coming to an anchor on the eastern side, we buried George Martin, a young marine.

Dollars not being a current medium of exchange among most of these islands, glass beads, looking-glasses, coloured cottons, etc., had been brought by us for purposes of barter.

We were very anxious to obtain a supply of bullocks, to keep our people as much on fresh meat as possible. The purser and interpreter, with a party of officers, went in a boat to communicate with a house which struck us in passing--from its size and plantations round it--as probably belonging to some chief, by whose assistance we hoped to get a supply of cattle.

Having, with difficulty, got inside the shoals, and effected a landing, our party was received in the politest manner by a fine-looking old Malay, who came down with his family to meet them.

They made him understand our wants; and he sent immediately to the chief of the district, and acquainted him with our wishes, appointing the next morning at nine as the time to receive the chief’s answer.

Our people left the shore much pleased with their friend, who, as I have before remarked of the well-bred Malays, was a gentleman, polite, easy, and dignified.

[Sidenote: Dec. 19.]

The next morning the same party landed with the necessary articles for barter, expecting to meet the chief or his deputy, and make a bargain for the cattle. Their friend of the previous evening received them in the same kind manner.

They waited some time in expectation of the cattle arriving, instead of which, parties of natives kept thronging in, well armed with kris, spear, and shield--their tom-toms beating outside.

After a while came the chief with a numerous train--himself a humpbacked, ferocious-looking savage--with all his men in padded jackets, and regular fighting costume. He made no reply to the questions of our party about bullocks, but kept his hand on his kris, and appeared undecided how to act.

We were only eight in number, and destitute of arms, with the exception of my double-barrel, the kind behaviour of their friend the night before having completely removed all suspicion of any sinister behaviour.

Surrounded now by about sixty well-armed, rascally-looking thieves, of hostile demeanour, we thought it best to put on as bold a front as possible, and at the same time quietly to retire. Nor did we underrate our good fortune in regaining the boat without further molestation, the ship being some miles distant, and shut from view by projecting headlands.

This was a lesson not to venture, in future, out of sight of the ship among the natives of these islands without an apparent superiority of force. Their white flags were hung out as much for the purpose of entrapping the weak as of bartering with the strong. Finding our wishes not likely to be attained, and not liking our berth, which was exposed to the eastward, we weighed, and ran round to the opposite side of Cagayan Sulu. This island, from its size and population, is next in importance to Sulu itself.

The scenery, at this stage of our wanderings, was the perfection of tropical beauty, with just sufficient cultivation to redeem it from the appearance of wildness.

As we ran past the bungalows and small villages on the southern shore, the inhabitants showed great alacrity in displaying pieces of white cloth; we ourselves keeping a white flag constantly flying, to show our peaceable intention and desire to communicate with them.

[Sidenote: Dec. 20.]

Having stood out for the melancholy purpose of committing to the deep the body of a marine, named Allan Cameron, another victim to Labuan fever, we came to an anchor on the south-west side, off the principal village of Cagayan Sulu.

We here encountered none of the menacing style of rogues on the eastern side; the people were willing to exchange cattle, poultry, and vegetables for our articles of barter. Red and white cotton were the most attractive, while empty bottles and midshipmen’s anchor buttons fetched their full value.

[Sidenote: Dec. 22.]

Weighed and stood towards Mambahennan, a small island to the southward, intending to come to for the night; but finding no anchorage, and the sea being now comparatively clear of shoals, we stood to the eastward, came to under the lee of an island, a sandy point.

[Sidenote: Dec. 23.]

About noon made some islands. Chart too incorrect to make out what they are. Found anchorage under the lee of one of them.

[Sidenote: Dec. 24.]

Invalids improving but slowly. Our clergyman, Hannan, very far from well; symptoms of breakdown of brain. Also the return of his delusion that the Queen was coming to Labuan to put things to rights.

[Sidenote: Dec. 25.]

Not the merriest Christmas I ever passed. Ship’s company landed in evening to amuse themselves in the jungle with their muskets. No accidents occurred. Passengers dined with me. Poor Rajah still ill, also his nephew, Brooke Brooke, the A.D.C.

[Sidenote: Sulu, Dec. 27.]

It was late when we came to an anchor. A good sprinkling on the sea of fishing and trading boats, of picturesque build and rig, gave to this place a pleasing appearance of life and animation, such as we had not before witnessed.

The ship had been seen from the high land long before, and we were not surprised by the appearance of some bustle taking place in the town: lights were moving about all night. We imagined, and afterwards found it to be the case, that they were removing their valuables, with their women and children, to the mountains, as a precaution in case our visit was hostile.

We had looked forward with much interest to our visit to Sulu, and were not, on the whole, disappointed--though perhaps it may be considered rather curious than interesting.

The English ensign was flying over a house, which we knew at once must be that of Mr. Windham. An officer was sent to communicate and obtain information.

The town is built, like most Malay places, partly on land and partly in the sea; the former part was strongly stockaded and flanked with batteries mounting heavy guns. The Sultan, under the influence and counsel of the Rajah of Sarawak, had become opposed to piracy and anxious for its suppression.

That portion of the town which is not within the stockades is built in regular Malay fashion, on piles. The houses run in rows or streets; and outside them is a platform about six feet wide. These rows of birdcage-looking buildings extend into the sea for half a mile, over a shoal which is nearly dry at low water. The population are principally fishermen and Chinese traders.

[Sidenote: Dec. 28.]

Mr. Windham’s house was built on one of these rickety platforms, and at low water it was necessary for us, who wore shoes and stockings, to be carried from the boat and deposited on his accommodation-ladder, where a kind welcome awaited us.

We found him dressed in Malay costume, and from long residence among them he had assumed much of the appearance and manner of a native. He willingly undertook the task of communicating with the Sultan, and arranging an audience for Sir James Brooke.

The usual salutes were exchanged. Mr. Windham informed us that a short time previously, when he was absent attending the pearl-fishing at the Ceroo Islands, two Dutch men-of-war had arrived at Sulu, who, after visiting and exchanging the usual salutes, suddenly attacked the town; this accounted for the panic on the night of our arrival.

The Dutchmen, having fired on the town for some time, landed and burnt a few houses, paying Mr. Windham the compliment of making particular inquiries for his, which they destroyed, together with much valuable property. He took us a short walk, I fancy about as far as he dared himself venture, into the interior.

What we saw of the country was highly cultivated, consisting, with intervals of jungle, of pasture-grounds and gardens, and an abundance of cattle.

Our appearance excited much curiosity with the natives, and many questions were asked, but the presence and explanation of Mr. Windham satisfied them.

Before commencing our watering, it was necessary to make certain arrangements, as a French squadron under Admiral Cecille had been much molested during that operation a short time previously, and an attempt had been made to poison the springs; all necessary precautions, therefore, were taken on our part.

The _Jolly Bachelor_ was first placed a few yards from the watering-place, which her howitzers completely covered.

Our people were charged to avoid offending the natives in any way during their casual intercourse. Under these auspices our watering progressed quickly and well.

It was not considered prudent to venture into the interior on shooting excursions, but we heard that there were partridges and quail, wild ducks, snipe, and teal. Monkeys, doves, and pigeons we saw. The beef we found particularly good.

We went to see what they call their races, which were held in an open space not far from the town, and observed groups of savage, but picturesque-looking men, mounted on spirited, strong-built small horses, of the Manila or Spanish breed; they were generally well armed, bearing each a spear or lance.

Presently a man would dash out from the rest as a challenge; then one from another group, or perhaps from the same, would ride up alongside; then both would start off in lines of their own choosing, in a brisk trot; at which pace the races were generally contested.

On several occasions I noticed a ruffian, apparently mounted no better than his neighbours, start out from the crowd; but no one seemed to accept the challenge.

These men were a sort of bravos, whom nobody cared to quarrel with, and such an offence as beating them at a race would be sure to end in a brawl.

[Sidenote: Dec. 30.]

This was the day appointed for Sir James Brooke’s interview with the Sultan of Sulu. We landed in full dress at ten o’clock. Having walked over the sea suburbs, and arrived at the beach, we found a guard of honour and attendants waiting to conduct Brooke to the Sultan’s presence; they were a motley group, but made themselves useful in clearing the way.

Passing within the outer stockade, we arrived, after a few minutes’ walk, at the royal residence.

It was walled in and fortified. A large space was enclosed by double rows of heavy piles driven into the earth, about 5 feet apart, and the space filled up with large stones and earth, making a solid wall 15 feet high, with embrasures, or rather portholes, in convenient places for cannon, out of which we noticed some rusty muzzles. Passing through a massive gateway, well flanked with guns and loopholes, we entered a large court, in which some two thousand persons were assembled, armed, and in their best apparel, but observing no sort of order. It was a wild and novel sight.

Malays are always armed. The kris to them is what the sword was to an English gentleman in the Middle Ages. Every person who, by virtue of his rank, or on any other pretext, could gain admittance, was in attendance on this occasion; for our Rajah had become a justly celebrated man in the great Eastern Archipelago, and was an object of curiosity. The audience-chamber was not large. A table covered with green cloth ran across the centre of it. Above the table, and round the upper end of the room, sat a brilliant semicircle of personages, the Sultan occupying a raised seat in the centre.

His Highness gave us a gracious reception, shaking hands with each officer as he was presented. This ceremony over, chairs were placed for Sir James and his suite. The scene was striking and gay.

The Sultan is a young-looking man, but with a dull and vacant expression, produced by too frequent a use of opium. His lips were red with the mixture of betel-nut and siri leaf which he chewed. He was dressed in rich silks, red and green the predominant colours. A large jewel sparkled in his turban, and he carried a magnificent kris.

The entire court was dressed in rich coloured brocades and silks, and many of the guard wore ancient chain armour, covering the arms, and reaching from throat to knee, their heads protected by skull-caps to match.

Those armed with sword, spear, and kris did not look amiss, but two sentries, placed to guard the entrance to this ancient hall of audience, each shouldering a shabby-looking old Tower musket, of which they seemed very proud, had an absurd effect.

Although no actual treaty was concluded, Sir James Brooke paved the way for opening up commerce, and for cultivating a better understanding with the natives.

Mr. Windham had been trying to persuade the Sulus to hoist the St. George’s Cross in their trading prahus, as a badge of peaceful mercantile occupation, by which they might be known to our cruisers, but this suggestion had not yet been adopted.