Trapping wild animals in Malay jungles

by Charles Mayer

In handling and taking from the nets the smaller animals a thick bamboo was used hollowed throughout, about five or six feet long, with a length of stout rattan, the end doubled together and run through the bamboo, leaving a loop at one end which could be slipped over the head of the animal through the mesh, and drawn taut against the end of the bamboo and held by two natives. Although they would wiggle and twist and squirm, they were helpless, and as the net would be unfurled, another loop held by two other natives would then be slipped over its head and as the other loop was allowed to come free from the bamboo, they would take the animal which was now clear of the net and drop it in the rough cage. With the bars fastened and the animal safe, it was ready to be sent on to the nearest kampong.

This method of course could only be used with the smaller animals. The larger cat animals that were caught in the nets, two leopards and one clouded tiger were so entangled that we put nets and all in the rough cages and then from between the bars, cut enough of the mesh in the net for the animals to free themselves. The larger deer gave us a lot of trouble on account of getting their horns and feet entangled through the meshes and most had to be killed. These we fed to the cat animals, after we had taken our fill. One tapir and calf we got in nets, the other two in pits. The wild boars gave us the most trouble. Whereas the tapirs were timid, the boars were very vicious and could only be put in cages by the same method I used with leopards. With the tigers and leopards caught in set traps, a transportation cage is set close to one end of the trap with two bars raised. A chicken or bait of some kind is placed within the cage, then a couple of bars of the trap are loosened and drawn out. If the animal refuses to enter the cage he is prodded with poles until he does, the bars are then slipped into their place and the animal is secured. There is really no danger or excitement in trapping and caging of tigers, or any animal caught in a trap of that kind.

In all I stayed with the Tungku nine weeks and the round-up of animals caught by net and pit, included ninety-two different varieties, not including three tigers, two spotted and one black leopard—forty-three cages and sixteen crates. This only includes those specimens in good condition. I do not count the animals that were killed off on account of not being fit to show for zoölogical purposes.

It was my good fortune during my stay with the Tungku to witness a bull fight. Under a covered shed on a raised platform the Sultan with his Court and guests sat, while the natives, five and six deep, either sat on the ground or stood forming a circle of about seventy yards in which the bulls fight.

The bulls belonged to a local breed. They are small in size, but sturdy, well built, very quick in movements, have a small hump on their necks, and short sharp horns. They are trained for fighting from early youth and out in the ring about the age of three, but are at their best at four or five years old. Bulls of as nearly as possible the same size and weight are generally matched to fight, and when once the bulls have been let go, the fight continues till one turns tail and leaves the field.

Each bull has three or four men who encourage it to greater efforts and when the fight is over lead it away.

Sometimes one of the bulls declines to fight altogether and rushes away the moment he is faced by his adversary. The victor then performs a strange sort of war dance alone, whirling round and round, tossing his head, bellowing and snorting and finally dashing off in pursuit of the enemy, demoralizing and scattering the crowd of spectators who fall over each other in their efforts to get out of his dangerous path.

Usually there is a fight more or less prolonged and when at last one bull gives way and runs for the field, he is followed, caught and brought back again to face his adversary. If he fights again, well and good, but the second bout rarely lasts any time and the beaten bull again saves himself by flight. That settles the matter as far as backers are concerned and the bets are paid. It very seldom happens that a bull is killed or even seriously injured. As soon as the bulls arrive on the ground, they are inspected at close quarters by the backers, while the setters-on give the last touches to their champion. They take the cover from the points of their horns, squeeze and rub a lemon on their nose and tongue, and tickle their back and sides. The bets are made and deposited with the stakeholder. The choice of position is decided by the drawing of one or two blades of grass held in the umpire's hand. The owner who draws the short blade takes the upstream position for his bull, while the other bull faces him from downstream. The setters-on then bring their respective bulls closely up to have a good look at each other, slowly pass about ten yards apart, and then bring them face to face. The leading ropes are suddenly cast off and the bulls dash at each other with fury and meet head on with a resounding thud. In a second their horns are interlocked, each trying by every ruse and device to drive the other back on his haunches or throw him over by main force. A moment later the horns are disengaged to find a new and a better purchase, and first one and then the other will gain a slight advantage and both bulls move this way and that from the center to the sides. The people of the East are seldom supposed to give way to demonstrations expressing emotion, but while a bull fight is on the Malays yell themselves hoarse with shouts of encouragement and approval, while the setters-on half mad with excitement simply dance around the bulls.

The varying tide of the battle carried the bulls to the center of the circle, and the novice which at first contented himself with simply resisting the attacks of his antagonist now made his great effort, pressing irresistibly forward, and bringing his great weight so to bear, that at last his adversary was forced back a few inches. Another effort and another, then gathering himself together, he rushed the other back and the latter's hind legs giving way under the pressure, he was thrown on his side and the other was upon him, butting unmercifully with his short, sharp-pointed horns. The old bull was beaten, but gathering himself together he recovered his legs and disappeared amidst a scene of the wildest excitement; men shouting themselves hoarse and otherwise expressing their delight. The excitement did not last more than a few minutes, then everybody quietly discussed what was held to be a great fight. It lasted about twenty minutes. The beaten bull was brought back again but as he declined to face his late adversary, he was led away, the bets were paid, and every one settled down again to wait for the next fight.

On my return from the round-up, for several years I did not venture into the jungle for more than a day or two at a time. My fever and dysentery had become chronic. I realized that I had too often disregarded the warning of the doctors and that, if I had another bad attack of illness, far away from medical attention, I should have to leave the country or might possibly die before I got way. My animal business in Singapore had grown so large that it gave me plenty to do, and I left to my agents the work of collecting. Through my house in Orchard Road passed a steady stream of animals, destined for zoölogical gardens all over the world.