He told me about the brown race we had seen attack the Mongol junk; that they were good sailors, and were found all about these waters, and they often came to Batavia in their proas. They were of what is known as the Malaya race, and called themselves “Orang-Laut”, or “men of the sea”. The Mongols they called “Orang-Kini”, and lost no opportunity of attacking and plundering them.
CHAPTER XI.
Disappearance of five of the Mutineers—They come back again—One turns Blacksmith and Armourer—Marriage of Zolca—The Rebellion.
I am now approaching the tragedy which has since often troubled my conscience. Was it justice or murder? I cannot say; then I thought it was justice, but now, looking back, I see that if by chance I misjudged, if I did not sufficiently allow for the pressure of circumstances, and the mad infatuation of the man, it was murder!
It wanted but a week to the captain’s departure, when five of the mutineers disappeared. Naturally we thought they had taken to the bush, intending to remain hidden until Hoogstraaten left, not relishing the prospect of risking their necks at Batavia. These five men were the worst and most unruly of the lot, and I by no means wished them to be left behind to corrupt the people with their vices. I therefore helped all I could, in the search we made for them, but without avail. Not a trace could we find, and at last we had to give it up, trusting that the Papoos would account for them.
It was with great regret that we parted with the captain. He told me that, after the benefits and assistance he had received, he would so word his report that we were not likely to be disturbed. He could truthfully affirm that our valley was but an oasis in the midst of a desert. As for the gold, the secret would never be divulged by him. He also promised that, if put in charge of another ship, he would visit us again. We went to the headland and waved him a last farewell as his little craft shot out to sea before the steady trade-wind.
Paul had shown no anxiety to leave; so I began to think that his last narrow escape had sickened him.
We returned to the town, and Zolca and I were discussing our late visitor, when Namoa came with the astounding intelligence that the five missing men were in the town, and, in fact, had never left it. They had been concealed in Paul’s house all the time.
When accused of this Paul admitted it, but defended himself by saying: that he was not going to see countrymen and fellow-sailors taken away to be hanged; that Hoogstraaten was a man who never forgave, and that these five men were marked men who would assuredly have suffered although the others might escape with lesser punishment.