Trapping wild animals in Malay jungles

by Charles Mayer

I left Omar and Munshee in charge of the orangs and had my men hurry ahead with me, for my leg was paining me intensely and I could feel the fever coming on. I had many things to do before I could afford to be sick, and I did not want to lose any time. For one thing, I realized that it would be impossible to get the animals into separate cages and that it would be necessary to build a larger cage before we could take them from the nets. It would be too dangerous to leave them in the nets overnight, for they might chew their way out.

At the village I found that my boy had laid out my medicine kit. I soaked my leg in hot water and massaged it; then we painted it with iodine and bandaged it tight. By the time the procession arrived, I was ready to give Omar and Munshee orders about the new cage.

While the women prepared the feast of chicken, rice and sugar-cakes, the men went into the jungle again and cut logs eight feet long and from six to eight inches in diameter. These they drove two feet into the ground, placing them not more than three inches apart, so as to form a cage eight feet long and three feet wide. Then they bound them together tightly with rattan ropes, and made and lashed down a strong roof of logs. One end of the cage was left open for the animals to enter.

Propped up on my litter, I directed the work; then I was carried while I made a careful inspection of it. When the cage was ready, the orang-outangs were brought up to the open end, the poles were drawn out and the slip-knot of the outer net was loosened. By using poles and working at a respectful distance, the men forced into the cage the single net containing the animals; then they drove the end-bars into the ground and lashed them. Finally, by working between the bars, they loosened the slip-knot of the net and left the orang-outangs free to untangle themselves.

By the time the job was finished, I was exhausted by the fever, and my leg was paining me unbearably. I thanked the men for their good work and was carried back to Omar's house. The people were disappointed that I could not take part in the great celebration they were preparing, and deputations arrived at the house to ask if they could do anything for me. In a hundred different ways they showed their concern for me and their kindness, and I know that they would have dispensed gladly with their merrymaking if I had intimated that the noise might keep me awake. Sleep was, of course, out of the question, but not because of the noise; my leg was puffed and swollen, and the fever was growing worse. Outside, I could hear the people celebrating. The ceremonies began with the funeral of the man that had been killed and they lasted until daybreak.

In the morning I sent for Munshee and told him that it would be necessary for me to go down the river to Sintang, where Dr. Van Erman lived. He selected four of his fastest boatmen and sent them off to the doctor with the message that I was coming. Their orders were that they might stop at Nanaoh-Pinoh to eat, but that they were not to rest until the message was delivered. Just as soon as they were out of the way, Munshee turned to preparing a boat for me; an awning made of palm-leaves was put over the center and a bed arranged.

I left Omar in charge of the orang-outangs, with Ali to assist him. Ali objected to being left behind, but I explained to him that he could be of greatest service to me by staying. He was to see that the orang-outangs were fed and watered and to have the natives trap other animals for me. I instructed Omar to build a shed over the cage and to place a fence around it, so that none of the natives could venture too close.

When my boat was ready, all the people of the kampong were on hand to bid me good-by and wish me a speedy recovery. Munshee steered and six men paddled. Another boat followed with my supplies. I went down the river, thinking that I had never found a kinder, more hospitable people than these, who are known throughout the world as savages and head-hunters.

My fever grew worse and worse and I became delirious. I did not know until later that Munshee urged the men on, hour after hour, until we overtook the messenger boat. The last thing that I remember of the trip was that everything became a blur. The men who were paddling, the river with its green banks, Munshee, the awning over my head and the coolie boy all whirled around and grew indistinct. I was unconscious when we reached Sintang.

Two days later I awoke in Dr. Van Erman's house and was unable for some time to realize where I was and why I was there. The doctor came in and talked with me for a few minutes. He said that I would be well in two weeks and that my leg was not badly damaged. Then I drifted off to sleep again.