CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. PAGE.

A MILITARY REPORT—FOUR DESERTERS—BABA POETJIENG—A LETTER—A COMPASSIONATE DOCTOR, HIS REFLECTIONS—FIRST INTRODUCTION TO TOMONGGONG—THE TITIH—A CHOLERA FUNERAL—RIFLE SHOT AND CANNON SHOT 1

CHAPTER II.

WHISPERING—LUCULLUS MISTAKEN FOR AN ANIMAL—JOHANNES’ PLAN—A GRATEFUL SMUGGLER—JOHANNES A GEOGRAPHER—A MIRACULOUS HAUL OF FISHES—LA CUEILLE’S PROMISE—DRINKING WATER—DEPARTURE 22

CHAPTER III.

A DRUNKEN MAN’S TALK—ON THE SEA—JOHANNES UP A TREE—UP THE KAHAJAN—AN ÆOLIAN HARP—THE SOENGEI TROESSAN—IN THE DAHASAN—A WOOD SPECTRE—A MOSQUITO CHARM—FURTHER PLANS—LOOK OUT FOR YOUR HEAD—SUITS OF BLACK 35

CHAPTER IV.

A STRANGE DAYAK—PAINTING A COMPLEXION—SHEIK MOHAMMED AL MANSOER—TOO HANDSOME FOR A DAYAK—IN THE FOREST MARSHES—DASSO AND DOETA—TWO BOTTLES OF DOCTORED GIN—THE BIRDS WINGED 49

CHAPTER V.

ON THE JOURNEY—A PREVENTIVE AGAINST MOSQUITOES—THE SOENGEI BASARANG—THE KAPOEAS—PAST POELOE KANAMIT—THE BOAR’S HEAD—A TRUE DAYAK MEAL—FOUND IN THE WOOD—A PANGARERAN PUTTING OUT FISHING-HOOKS—THE CAPTURE OF A CROCODILE—THE SOENGEI MANTANGEI—FIGHT WITH A BOA CONSTRICTOR—A SKIRMISH—THE JOURNEY RESUMED 59 [iv]

CHAPTER VI.

THE WOUNDED GO TO KWALA KAPOEAS—THE MANTANGEI AND THE MENKATIP—THE COMMANDER IN PURSUIT—AT SEA—PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES—THE SCHOONER—THE RETURN—ON THE TRACK AT LAST—DEPARTURE FROM MANTANGEI—WHITE SAIL—FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE HEAD-HUNTERS—LA CUEILLE WOUNDED—A FUNERAL CEREMONY 85

CHAPTER VII.

JOURNEY UP THE RIVER—POISONS, HOW THEY ARE MADE—THE SOENGEI MOEROI—THE MEETING WITH BAPA ANDONG—BEE-HUNTING—HEAD-HUNTERS AGAIN—A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE 110

CHAPTER VIII.

THE RESULTS OF THE FIGHT—DAMBOENG PAPOENDEH’S EXPEDITION—THE MAROETAS—BACK AGAIN TO THE KAPOEAS—NIGHT FIRING—THE BEES TO THE RESCUE—ASSISTANCE IN PERIL—THE SEPARATION—CIVILIZATION AND BARBARISM 123

CHAPTER IX.

SOLITUDE—KWALA HIANG—THE ATTACK—RIFLE AND CANNON FIRE—THE GARRISON TAKES FLIGHT—THE PILLAGE—AN ILLUMINATION—THE COMMANDER OF KWALA KAPOEAS IN PURSUIT—HIS SEARCH AT SOENGEI NANING AND SOENGEI MANTANGEI—HIS ARRIVAL AT KWALA HIANG—THE PURSUIT CONTINUED—A GIGANTIC MAP—KOTTA BAROE—OUR TRAVELLERS AGAIN ON THE WAY—THE LEGEND OF THE ELEPHANT—POENANS! POENANS! 136

CHAPTER X.

HARIMAOUNG BOEKIT’S NARRATIVE—EVENTS AT KOTTA BAROE—COUNCIL OF WAR—COALS—ARRIVAL AT KOTTA DJANGKAN—TAKING IN AMMUNITION AND PROVISIONS—A WOMAN CAGED—WIENERSDORF BECOMES DESPERATE—JOHANNES REASONS 160 [v]

CHAPTER XI.

FURTHER MEANS OF DEFENCE—THE OATH OF ATONEMENT—JOHANNES AN ORATOR—TWO GUN SHOTS—THE ATTACK—WIENERSDORF IN A FAINT—A GRATEFUL POENAN—A DAYAK BEAUTY—AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE—WIENERSDORF IS ENGAGED TO HAMADOE—AN AMBASSADOR FROM THE COLONEL—HE CARRIES BACK HIS MESSAGE 173

CHAPTER XII.

CONSULTATION—THE “BLAKO ONTONG”—A SALVO OF GUNS—THE OFFERING—A NATIONAL DANCE—DOWN WITH THE TURBAN—A CONFERENCE DISTURBED BY TWO RIFLE SHOTS—A FLOATING ISLAND—AN ATTEMPT AT SURPRISE—A FATAL SHOT—THE SIEGE RAISED—THE EPISODE OF THE CROCODILE—JOHANNES SPEAKS—A NEW CHIEF 199

CHAPTER XIII.

PREPARATION FOR THE JOURNEY—AN EMIGRATION—THE FISHING—A DAYAK TRIBUNAL—THE FINGER TEST—THE PROOF WITH THE LANCE—WIENERSDORF FINDS HAMADOE A TREASURE—LA CUEILLE DISCOVERS A COAL BED—A MISUNDERSTANDING—THE GOLD FEVER 225

CHAPTER XIV.

A DAYAK IRON-FOUNDRY—A PAIR OF NATIVE BELLOWS—HARIMAOUNG BOEKIT DOWN WITH FEVER—WIENERSDORF BECOMES A PHYSICIAN—JOHANNES A MAGICIAN—NEWS FROM KWALA KAPOEAS—ONCE MORE EN ROUTE—THE WIDOW’S STONE—KIHAM HOERAS AND ITS PASSAGE—HALAMANTEK 247

CHAPTER XV.

A DAYAK BREAKFAST—THE HALT ON THE ISLAND—THE BOEHIES—A NEW KIND OF SOUP—THE THUNDER-STORM AND ITS RESULTS—RUMORS OF WAR—A NIGHT ATTACK—THE PARABOH—KOTTA HAMIAK BESIEGED—THE BESIEGERS ROUTED 269 [vi]

CHAPTER XVI.

CREMATION—THE SLAUGHTER OF PRISONERS OF WAR—A PRISONER OF WAR SAVED—COUNCIL OF WAR—SCARCITY OF WATER—HAMADOE THIRSTY—WIENERSDORF ATTACKED BY AN ORANG OUTANG—ON THE KAHAJAN—A BLOODY BATTLE—SCHLICKEISEN LOST 295

CHAPTER XVII.

PURSUIT—A BAND OF DOESSONESE SURPRISED—ON THE TRACK OF SCHLICKEISEN—HE IS SAVED—HARIMAOUNG BOEKIT MAKES A DISCOVERY—THE JOURNEY RENEWED—GOLD HUNTING—LA CUEILLE MAKES A FIND—BARTER WITH THE OLO OTTS 318

CHAPTER XVIII.

TRAVELLING APPOINTMENTS—THE DIAMOND OF THE SULTAN OF MATAM—DIAMOND FIELDS—GEORGE MULLER’S DIARY AND SKULL—MARRIAGE CEREMONIES—AGAIN ON THE ROAD—A NOVEL BURIAL-PLACE—ON THE EQUATOR—AN INKY LAKE—THE ASCENT OF BATANG LOEPAR 343

CHAPTER XIX.

DESCENT OF THE BATANG LOEPAR—A BORNEAN WATERFALL—THE FRONTIER PASSED—SIMANGANG—PARTING—ON BOARD THE FIREFLY—A SARAWAK FORT—AT KOETSHIN—ON BOARD THE RAINBOW—AT SINGAPORE—DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE 361 [1]

CHAPTER I.

A MILITARY REPORT—FOUR DESERTERS—BABA POETJIENG—A LETTER—A COMPASSIONATE DOCTOR, HIS REFLECTIONS—FIRST INTRODUCTION TO TOMONGGONG—THE TITIH—A CHOLERA FUNERAL—RIFLE SHOT AND CANNON SHOT.

“If you please, Colonel, four men have not answered to their names at roll-call.”

“Who are they?”

“Schlickeisen, Wienersdorf, La Cueille and Johannes.”

“Two Swiss, a Belgian and a native,” muttered the Colonel. “And has it been ascertained how late they were seen at the military kampong?”

“Impossible, Colonel, the gates close at six and after that hour may not be reopened without your permission.”

“Let a corporal and three men be immediately despatched to enquire after them. Then close the gates and double the [2]guard so that means may be at hand to send out aid if required.”

“Right, Colonel.”

“Let me also have a full report of the search in the kampong and its results.”

“Right, Colonel! Any further orders?”

A negative being indicated by a shake of the head, the sergeant saluted and quitted the apartment.

The Colonel rose from his rocking-chair. A sudden anxiety seemed to possess him. But a few moments before his face had seemed to be cast in bronze. Not a muscle had moved. Now, however, he had become restless and perturbed. He turned up the flame of his lamp and going to a safe took down a large volume. This he placed on the table and began to read attentively. The book contained extracts from the army register, that wonderful description of the whole of the Dutch Indian force which is kept posted with the most laudable exactitude at the war office in Batavia.

“Schlickeisen,” read the Colonel; “a Swiss born at Steinbach, in the canton of Glarus, twenty-one years old. Father a priest.” He turned over another leaf.

“Wienersdorf, also a Swiss; born at Winterthür, in the canton of Zürich, twenty-three years old. Father a professor of natural philosophy.

“La Cueille, a Belgian, born at Cheratte, in the province of Liege, twenty-six years old. Father a miner in the coal mines of Jupille.

“Johannes, born at Padang, island of Sumatra; about thirty [3]years old. Father unknown. Mother the Niasian woman, Ma Troeni.”

The Colonel closed the book; he could obtain from it no further information.

“A curious affair,” he muttered, “and one that will cause endless trouble unless it should prove to be only a drunken brawl.”

Taking another large folio from his collection of books, he turned over a few pages and read:

“Schlickeisen and Wienersdorf were recommended at the registry to be educated as officers. They were subsequently dismissed from the college for taking part in the insurrection of the Swiss at Samarang. The one was a candidate for the bar, the other had finished his curriculum at the Realschule and had received his diploma as teacher of natural philosophy and chemistry. Both had studied at Zürich. Nothing seems to be known of La Cueille. He has said that he was once assistant to a gun-maker at Meester Cornelis, but had been dismissed for drunkenness. And Johannes, another of those Indian products of animal passion, whose birth is almost a misfortune to him.”

Thus far had the Colonel read and commented when a knock was heard and the sergeant again appeared. In correct military attitude he waited until his superior officer should interrogate him.

“Well, are they found?”

“No, Colonel, we have scoured the whole of the military kampong. It is quite deserted. All we have found is this letter, addressed to you by Johannes and left by him in his hut.”

The Colonel received the letter with an air of indifference, [4]opened it and just glanced at the signature. Then dropping it carelessly on the table, he asked,

“Have you discovered whether the missing men had procured any drink?”

“Not any, Colonel.”

“Who commands the guard?”

“Corporal Greenwood.”

“Ahem; also an old drunkard. Ascertain from him and from the sentries whether Baba Poetjieng has been in the batang.” The sergeant withdrew.

Baba and Kee are used to designate the Chinese in the Dutch Indies. The former is the more complimentary. Kee is humiliating and almost a nickname.

Baba Poetjieng was a sly Chinaman who had managed to make himself indispensable to the garrison by the sale of such merchandise as tobacco, needles, thread, beer, canned meats and vegetables, paper, pens and ink, etc., all of the first quality and unmistakably cheap. His prices, compared with those of the European merchants of Bandjermasin and even of Java, could not possibly have yielded him the smallest profit. It rather seemed as if he actually lost by his transactions. This he swore by the coffin of his father and grandfather was really the case; alleging that it was a real pleasure to him to serve his good friends the Hollanders. One day the Colonel happened to pick up outside of the fort an empty sardine box, and upon examining it became struck by its peculiar trade-mark and by an extraordinary smell which seemed to cling to it. Finding a second box on a subsequent occasion, he again detected the [5]same odor, and the idea struck him that the boxes had contained opium. He also noticed that among both the Indian and the European soldiers of the garrison there was a certain

amount of excitement whenever Baba Poetjieng was at the pier with his wares. But all efforts to entrap the sly Chinaman had proved unavailing. His tins when opened for examination were always found to contain the finest sardines or California fruits; and with a satisfied grin our Baba asked the Colonel whether he had enjoyed his purchases. He had “most carefully selected his wares for the toean.” The reader will now perceive why the Colonel had expressed a wish to know whether Baba Poetjieng had been seen at the pier.

The sergeant returned with a report that nobody had seen the Chinaman that day.

Orders were then given that the sergeant and six soldiers should go to the kampong and invite the Chief of the district to visit the Commander immediately. “Proceed cautiously,” said the Colonel. “The gates will be guarded until you return. The sentinels must redouble their vigilance and keep a sharp lookout. I shall presently go around myself to see how all goes on.”

After the departure of the sergeant, the Colonel took up the letter, which he had thrown on the table, and read:

“High-born and Honored Colonel.—We shall be a long way off when this letter is read by you. You will undoubtedly use every effort to recapture us, but all will be in vain. Our measures have been well taken and you will never see one of us back alive. We have had enough of the Dutch service. “We thank you most cordially, dear Colonel, for the noble treatment [6]we have received at your hands. If any one could have reconciled us to our condition and prevented our embarking on our present dangerous enterprise, it would have been you. But who can assure us that you will remain in command over us! The time we have yet to serve is long and men’s characters are not alike. We Swiss have been cruelly deceived by the recruiting officers of the Dutch army. We refrain from saying where the deceit lies. You are able to fathom our misery in all its extent. We have been enticed from our lovely valleys under the most wicked pretences; we were promised the greatest advantages, but of all these promises nothing has ever been realized.

“But why should we write all this to you—you who are entirely blameless for the miseries we suffer? We know that you have done all you could to render our fate supportable and on that account we do not wish to appear guilty in your eyes. We will be called, and we certainly are, deserters; but we do not deserve the ignominy which will cling to our names. You at least could not misjudge us. We might have considered ourselves bound to the Dutch government, but when we perceived that we were the victims of foul duplicity our contract did not appear binding upon us. In transactions of such a nature it is not fair that one side only should fulfill its duties, while the other is left free to carry out such part of its engagement as is found convenient.”

“Poor wretches,” said the Colonel.

“But,” he continued reading, “some excuse might well be offered by us for our desertion, and on that score our consciences are easy. Necessity compels us to act as we are doing. Judge for yourself. You kindly lent us your theodolite, field-glasses, sextant and compass in order that we might keep up our knowledge of surveying. Some of those instruments we have decided to take with us. The last two are especially indispensable to us, since without them we should soon be lost in our proposed journey. The theodolite we will leave in Johannes’ cabin. Pray pardon us this dishonesty. You may rest assured that we will either return the borrowed instruments or forward the cost as soon as we find ourselves once more among civilized nations. And [7]now, dear Colonel, may God reward you for the kind treatment we have received from you. We feel that a hard chase after us is about to commence. God protect us. Farewell. “Schlickeisen, “Wienersdorf. “P. S.—If we should perish in our efforts to regain our liberty our fate will not

remain long concealed from you. We entreat you by everything you value, by the memory of your lamented mother, to inform our parents of our end. You will find full particulars of their addresses in our military pass-books. Once more, farewell.”

“Poor devils,” repeated the Colonel, wiping away a tear as if he felt humiliated by his emotion. “What a miserable fate these men have gone to encounter.” He then laid the letter on the table, giving vent to a deep sigh and became wrapt in meditation. He was interrupted by the entrance of the garrison doctor, who rushed into the room with an angry and excited countenance.

The doctor was a tall, slender man, with bristly red hair and a pair of yellow mustaches, the points of which were kept well waxed so that they stood out as if trying to reach behind his ears. He also had received a letter which he held in his hand.

“Himmelskreuz! The rogue has bolted.”

He was evidently a Prussian or South German.

“What? Who?” asked the Colonel.

“Der Wallon, das Vieh, and he has taken my instruments and revolvers with him.”

La Cueille had likewise left a letter behind to explain the theft of the doctor’s instruments and arms, which as he was a [8]gunsmith had been entrusted to him for repair. He had also begged to be excused to the Colonel, whose two Remington rifles he had carried off.

“One cannot risk such a dangerous journey quite defenceless,” the Walloon had reasoned. “The Colonel was sure to know of the dangers they would have to encounter.”

The Colonel showed the doctor the letter which he had received.

“Then they have bolted together.”

“Very probably.”

“Poor fellows! But what will you do now?”

“I have sent to the Chief of the district. It may be that he has some information. Upon his communication will depend my course of action.”

“Do you mean to pursue them?”

“Certainly,” replied the Colonel.

“But the safety of the post entrusted to you?”

“Oh, my dear sir, I will not endanger that.”

“How so? The garrison is not strong. You cannot take any men away from it without danger.”

“Oh, I will leave the garrison intact. I will have them hunted down by a native detachment.”

“That would be cruel. To be hunted down by Dayaks!”

“I must own that those fellows are not over-scrupulous; but what else can I do? As you say, I dare not take any of the garrison and I cannot very well remain inactive. However, it is impossible to decide what steps are to be taken until I have seen the Chief of the district. It may be that the deserters [9]have already been seized by the kampong guard and that our anxieties are premature. I am now going to visit the posts, will you come with me?”

“Donnerwetter! it is no treat to grope about in that Egyptian darkness.”

“Well stay behind and wait for me. The Chief may be here directly and I should like to have you present at our interview. I shall not be long.”

The Colonel went out. He had only a short distance to go, the fort being very small.

The sentries were found duly posted and peering sharply into the surrounding darkness. The bridge over the moat had been let down and the gates stood ajar; but outside at the further extremity of the drawbridge there was stationed a picket of six men, whilst behind the gate the whole garrison was drawn up with shouldered rifles. The Colonel, satisfied with his inspection, was about to return to his quarters and his guest when he was accosted by a corporal.

“What is the matter?” he asked.

“The rifles of Johannes, Schlickeisen, Wienersdorf and La Cueille are missing from the gun rack and most of the men’s cartridge boxes have been emptied.”

“Ha! ascertain how many cartridges are lost and let the artillery sergeant replace them immediately from the magazine.”

The Colonel had scarcely finished speaking when the corporal of the mess approached to report that four bags of rice and a bag of coffee were missing. These too he ordered replaced and turned away, his mind engrossed by the desertions and their [10]consequences. The men who had deserted, thought he, did not seem to have any quantity or variety of provisions, but they were brave men who would certainly levy toll upon each kampong they passed and find food on every river they traversed. They had weapons and ammunition and could face any danger; they had also instruments whereby they could direct their course. Thus there could be no likelihood of their perishing in the virgin forests of Borneo.

“Yes,” said he to himself, “we have here a job which will set both feet and pens in motion and I am afraid, with the writing mania already existing in India, pens are going to beat feet. But those poor, poor devils!”

In the meantime the doctor had stretched himself on a rocking-chair and soon became lost in deep reverie. He regretted that these men had taken so desperate a step; but he could not blame them altogether. He was full of fear for the issue of their undertaking, yet if he himself had not been bound by oath, he would have been inclined to join and become their guide and counsellor. But—he belonged to the Dutch Indian Officers’ Club; he had sworn allegiance to the Dutch crown and submission to the military régime of the Dutch army.