As each chief ended his speech to the people he turned to the pig at his feet, and, stooping over it, kept gently prodding it with a smouldering fire-brand, while he addressed to it a prayer for protection and guidance — a prayer that the spirit of the pig, soon to be set free by a skilful thrust of a spear into the beast's heart, should carry up to the Supreme Being. The answer to these prayers might then be read in the form and markings of the underside of the livers. So the pigs were despatched, and their livers hastily dragged forth and placed on platters before the group of chiefs. Then was there much anxious peering over shoulders, and much shaking of wise old heads, as the learned elders discussed the omens; until at last the Resident was called upon to give his opinion, for he is an acknowledged expert in augury. He was soon able to show that the only true and rational reading of the livers was a guarantee of peace and prosperity to all the tribes of the district; and the people, accepting his learned interpretation, rejoiced with one accord. Then the Resident made a telling speech, in which he dwelt upon the advantages of peace and trade, and how it is good that a man should sleep without fear that his house be burnt or his people slain; and he ended by seizing the nearest chief by the hair of his head, as is their own fashion, to show how, if a man break the peace, he shall lose his head.
This concluded the serious part of the conference, and it only remained to smoke the cigarettes of good fellowship, taken from the hornbill-effigy, and to drink long life and happiness to one another. So great jars of "arack" were brought in and drinking vessels, and each chief in turn, standing before some whilom enemy, sang his praises in musical recitative before giving him the cup; and after each phrase of the song the multitude joined in with a long-drawn sonorous shout, which, while the drink flowed down, rose to a mighty roar. This is a most effective way of drinking a man's health, and combines the advantages of making a speech over him and singing "For he's a jolly good fellow"; moreover, the drink goes to the right party, as it does not with us. It should be adopted in this country, I think. By many repetitions of this process we were soon reduced to a state of boisterous conviviality; and many a hard-faced old warrior, who but the day before had drawn his weapons against his enemy, now sat with his arms lovingly thrown about that same enemy. When this state of affairs was reached, our work seemed to be accomplished, and we white men retired to lunch, leaving one chief in the midst of a long-winded speech. As soon as the restraint of the Resident's presence was removed, the orator began to utter remarks of a nature to stir up the dying embers of resentment; at least so it seemed to one wily old chief, a firm supporter of the government, who bethought him to send one of his men to pull away the palm-leaf mats from above the indiscreet orator, and so leave his verbosity exposed to the rays of the mid-day sun. No sooner said than done, and this was the beginning of the end; for others following suit made a rush for the mats that would be so useful in making their camps and boats more rain-proof. There was a mighty uproar that brought us headlong to the scene, only to see the big hall melt away like a snowflake as hundreds of hands seized upon the mats and bore them away in triumph. So the great peace conference was brought to an end amid much laughter and fun.
It only remained for the chiefs to pay in the taxes for the year — the two dollars per family which it is their business to collect from their people, and which is the only tax or tribute claimed by the Rajah. This business was got through on the following morning; and then we said many kind farewells, as the various parties set out one after another in the great war canoes on their long up-stream journey; some of them to battle for many days against the swiftly flowing river, and after that again for many days to pole their boats through the flashing rapids and over the lovely quiet reaches, where the rare gleams of sunlight break through the overarching forest; until, coming to their own upland country, where anxious wives and children are waiting, they will spread even in the remotest highlands the news of the white man's big boat that goes of itself against the stream, of the great boat-race, and of how they came wellnigh to a fearful slaughtering, and how they swore peace and goodwill to all men, and how there should be now peace and prosperity through all the land, for the great white man who had come to rule them had said it should be so, and the gods had approved his words.
The foregoing account of the journey to the Madang country and of the subsequent events would constitute the last chapter of any history of the pacification of the Baram. Since the time of those incidents, there has been no serious disturbance of the peace; and there seems to be good reason to hope that, so long as the Rajah's government continues to be conducted along the same lines, there will be no recrudescence of savagery. The last case of fighting on any considerable scale occurred in 1894, when Tama Bulan's people, resenting the offensive conduct of bands of Sea Dayaks who had penetrated to their neighbourhood in search of jungle-products, turned out and took the heads of thirteen of the Dayaks. It was only after prolonged negotiation that the Dayaks were persuaded to resign their hopes of a bloody revenge and to accept a compensation of 3000 dollars, which was paid by the Kenyahs at the Rajah's order.
It has not always been possible to make peace prevail by wholly peaceable procedures. The Baram was fortunate in that the Sea Dayaks had not established themselves anywhere within its borders. In the Rejang, on the other hand, large numbers of them were allowed to settle, coming in from the Saribas and the Batang Lupar in the early days of the Rajah's government. And since the Kayans and Kenyahs were already in possession of the upper river and considered themselves the dominant tribes and lords of the land, it was inevitable that there should grow up a keen rivalry which could hardly fail to lead occasionally to armed conflict. For the Sea Dayaks had been accustomed to adopt a somewhat swaggering and domineering attitude towards the Klemantan tribes, and could not easily learn to modify it when they came in contact with the prouder and less submissive Kayans and Kenyahs. This rivalry has been the source of most of the troubles of the Rejang, where, since the big expedition of 1863, the Rajah and his officers have on several occasions found it necessary to subdue recalcitrant tribes or communities by leading armed forces against them.
As an illustration of these sterner methods we add a brief account of one such expedition led by one of us (C. H.) in the year 1904, in his capacity of Divisional Resident of the several Rejang districts; an expedition which, there is reason to hope, may prove to be the last of the series. The purpose of this expedition was to reduce to order a small community of Sea Dayaks that was established upon Bukit Batu, an almost impregnable mountain which rises up almost perpendicularly on all sides at the head of the Bali, one of the eastern tributaries of the Rejang. This community had been formed in the manner to which legend assigns the foundation of ancient Rome, namely, by the gathering together in this strong place of various outlaws and violent characters who for one reason or another had quarrelled with and defied the government. The same spot had been similarly occupied many years before; and though it had been forcibly cleared of its defenders, its natural advantages had, in the course of years, led to the growth of a new community of the same kind.
This band had raided the surrounding country, slaying and robbing people of several tribes, and generally had been having a "gorgeous time." They had repeatedly refused to yield even when threatened by armed force. And when the Resident sent them a peremptory message, commanding them to appear to surrender themselves at the nearest government station within one month, they returned an impudent answer, saying that they had so far accepted orders from no one, and asking — Who was he that they should obey him? Steps were at once taken to enforce obedience. Since to storm the hill might well cost many lives, it seemed preferable to try to lure its defenders from their stronghold. The Resident, without giving the brigands further warning, went up the Rejang with a single boat's crew to a point about 150 miles above the mouth of the Bali, the tributary that flows past Bukit Batu. At this point another tributary, the Bukau, coming from near the opposite side of Bukit Batu, joins the Rejang. Here he collected a force of some 200 Kayans and Klemantans, and led them up to the head of the Bukau and then on foot through the jungle to the neighbourhood of Bukit Batu. The route by which the brigands usually passed to and from their fastness was at a spot near the river, where rude ladders of wood and rattan had been fixed to facilitate the ascent and descent of the precipitous foot of the hill. Near this spot the force was divided into two parties, which were stationed in the jungle at some little distance from the ladders, right and left of the path to the river; and a party of ten active men was detached, with instructions to hang about the foot of the ladders and to retreat along the path to the river if they were attacked. On the second day the Ibans on the mountain snapped at the bait. About forty of them descended stealthily and then rushed upon the small party, hoping to hunt down in the jungle all whom they could not strike down on the spot, and thus to secure ten heads and enjoy the frenzy of slaughter. The ten decoys fled swiftly down the path, and the supporting parties, guided by the yells of the Ibans, closed in from both sides and fell upon them. A few of the rebels were killed, without any fatal casualties to the Resident's party. The rest fled through the jungle and many of them were afterwards arrested. Those who remained on the hill promptly drew up the ladders and hurled down rocks. To have carried the hill by storm would still have been most difficult and costly, and, as it proved, a needless feat. The Resident therefore contented himself with destroying all the property of the brigands that was within reach, including a number of valuable jars and gongs which they had secreted in a cave at the foot of the hill, and the fields of young PADI on which they were largely dependent for their food-supply. For he well knew that this procedure would render the spot hateful to the Ibans; for the scene of a disaster, especially one where they have been worsted in fight, becomes an object of superstitious dread. The Resident therefore led back his party by the way they had come, dismissed them to their homes, and returned down river to Sibu, after sending a command to those remaining on the hill that they should present themselves forthwith at Kapit. The order was obeyed; fines, pledges, and compensations to relatives of their victims were paid in; and the principal men were ordered to reside for a year in the neighbourhood of Sibu Fort and afterwards to return to their native districts.
It should be added that these Ibans frankly acknowledged that the Resident had been too clever for them, and that they bore him no ill-will; and that some of them, accompanying him on later excursions, proved themselves willing helpers and agreeable companions.
Other and larger expeditions of armed forces have in the past been led against tribes or villages, generally on account of their having refused to surrender to the government members guilty of taking heads or of attacking other villages wantonly and without permission. In all cases the government officers have relied almost exclusively upon the services of bodies of natives under the immediate charge of their own chiefs and armed only with their native weapons. In some cases the offending parties have fled from their villages without offering active resistance; and in these cases the government force has usually been content to inflict punishment by burning down their houses and taking what property was left in them.
It is perhaps too much to hope that no cases of taking heads or of wanton attack on jungle parties or on weak villages will ever again occur. But such incidents have become very infrequent and the offenders have seldom escaped punishment; for, unlike our own population, many thousands of whom live detached from all local bonds as isolated floating units unknown to the government and to those among whom they dwell, every man in Sarawak, with the partial exception of the nomad jungle-dwellers, is a member of some local group which is held responsible by the government for his good behaviour; thus in every district every man is known, if not as an individual, at least as a member of some community; and every stranger (or party of strangers) is expected to be able to give a satisfying account of himself; and any who wish to work in the jungle of any district other than their own are required to have government permission. It is thus impossible for any criminal to conceal himself for any length of time from the government; and so sure is it of effecting arrest, when necessary, that accused persons are frequently allowed to attend to their farms and follow their ordinary occupations pending the time of their trial. Even when a man accused of a serious offence flees across the border to Dutch territory, he is generally apprehended by the Dutch officers sooner or later and sent round to Kuching by sea.