Most of the animals went to the various Australian gardens for which I acted as agent. They allowed me to make my shipments f.o.b. Singapore, relieving me of the risks of transportation. In return, I gave them first call on all of my best specimens. When their needs had been supplied I had my choice between shipping to Hagenbeck's agent at Calcutta, shipping to Europe, and selling to the crews of boats that called at Singapore. The officers and men bought many animals, sharing the cost and eventually sharing the profits if the animals lived to reach Europe. Ariff, by crooked dealing and passing off sickly animals, had almost ruined this business, but it revived rapidly when the word spread that I could be depended upon. Ariff and I had many stormy sessions before I convinced him that my way was the better, and he finally came to handle a large part of the boat trade for me, doing the work of soliciting orders and making deliveries on commission.
I made very few sales directly to America. The trouble and risk of the long voyage were too great, and also there was a twenty-five per cent duty to be paid when the animals were landed. The gamble was large, and, even when the deliveries were safely made, there was little profit. Some of my animals reached America through Hagenbeck, who kept them until they were acclimated and then shipped them across the Atlantic. The acclimatization and breeding of animals in captivity is a business in itself.
Hagenbeck approached me several times with the proposition to become his exclusive agent in the Far East, but I preferred to have my own business and sell independently. Both he and Cross of Liverpool kept me busy with orders; and, with the orders from Australia, I found that I had a greater demand that I could meet. Almost every boat that came to Singapore from the districts where animals were captured brought specimens, and I was continually pressing my agents to send more. I traveled constantly throughout the Archipelago, urging the natives to work faster and keeping in touch with the source of my supply. As I have said before, I made few excursions into the jungle, and then only when it was impossible for my agents, who were generally headmen, to leave their kampongs and come to the coast.
Trengganu, with its jungles full of animals, was my favorite territory. I had the valuable privilege of being practically the only white man who could enter that country. In it I passed so much of my time that I finally had a house built there for me. My presence speeded the work of capturing, though I took no part in it except to talk with the headmen when they came to the coast. The Sultan gave me unlimited power in handling the natives, and no native who worked for me ever had cause to complain.
Nor had the Sultan himself; for I often found ways of helping him when the treasury was at low ebb. He looked to me to bring him news of the outside world and to interpret the news for him in terms that were understandable. Several hours of each day I spent at the palace, in discussing the affairs of the country with the Sultan and his Prime Minister, Mahommed Yusuf. Yusuf was a tunku besar (big prince) and was formerly the Sultan of Lingga. He was driven from his country by the Dutch and had sought refuge with his brother, the Sultan of Trengganu. There he lived as an object lesson of what might happen if Europeans were allowed to come into the country.
It was inevitable that Trengganu should eventually be taken over by the British, but the Sultan fought the idea at every turn. He could see in such a possibility nothing but ruin for himself, and he was determined to hold out as long as he lived. In our long talks we discussed every phase of his situation, and I pointed out to him that other sultans had prospered under the British. He was interested in that fact and asked for more information. Finally, it was arranged that Sir Frank Swettenham, who was governor-general of the Straits Settlements, should make a visit to Trengganu. That was the entering wedge. A few years later, an agreement was reached by which the country became a British protectorate and the Sultan, a prosperous, though nominal, ruler; and the development of this virgin territory began.
As a reward for the advice and assistance I gave him, the Sultan, before Trengganu passed out of his control, made me a present of five different concessions of land, with all mineral and surface rights. Though the concessions, which totaled nine hundred square miles, were rich in tin, the Sultan advised me to let the tin stay where it was and plant rubber. I could see that I had reached the beginning of the end of my career as an animal dealer!
On my return to Singapore after one of my visits to Trengganu, I found a letter from Mr. La Souef, of Melbourne, asking me if I would make a special effort to get a rhinoceros for his zoölogical gardens. He had made the same request the year before, and I had had a standing order with my agents in Trengganu, but nothing had come of it. There was constant good-natured rivalry between Mr. La Souef and his son, who was director of the gardens at Perth, and, as I had provided the son with a rhinoceros, I wanted to do as much for the father. I wrote to him, saying that I should communicate with my agents and that, if they had nothing to report, I would go out myself and see what I could find for him. Accordingly, I sent Ali to Trengganu with the message, telling him to wait there until I arrived.
There seemed to be so little chance that the natives would capture a good specimen that, after attending to the business at the animal house, I gathered my kit and started northward. At Trengganu I found Ali and some of the headmen waiting for me. Just as I had expected, they had nothing to report. One of them said that he thought I could find a rhinoceros near Rawang.
"Why do you think so?"