DYAK WAR PRAHU.

We hove to, to speak to those on board of the canoes, and were informed by them that the pirates had sustained a severe defeat, and that the European force was about to descend the river on their return to Kuchin. As a proof of the victory having been gained, they produced several heads which had been taken in the fight.

We proceeded about six miles further up the river, when we discovered the European boats and crews lying at anchor abreast of the smoking ruins of what had been a Malay town. Here we learnt that the pirates had been completely routed, after a desperate resistance, that four large towns had been burnt, and seventy-five brass guns of the country, called leilas, had been captured. The victory, however, had not been gained without loss on our side, and had the pirates been better prepared, we must have suffered much more. Several of the people of Kuchin had been killed, and of Europeans we had to lament the loss of Mr. Wade, first lieutenant of the Dido, and formerly of the Samarang, and Mr. Stewart, one of the residents at Kuchin; the latter gentleman lost his life by an excess of zeal which quite overcame all prudence. Mr. Wade had landed with his men after an attack and capture of a fort, and when in advance received a bullet in the heart. He fell instantly dead; his body was recovered by his shipmates, and borne to the boat, and during a temporary cessation of hostilities was conveyed to the river. His loss was much deplored by his shipmates in both vessels, by whom he was respected as an officer, and beloved as a friend.

Mr. Stewart, pulling in advance in a small canoe, with some of the natives belonging to Kuchin, was suddenly pounced upon by three or four of the enemy's prahus full of men. They ran down the canoe, and thus were Mr. Stewart and his companions at their mercy. Mercy!—a wrong term to use when speaking of those who never show any. They were all krissed, to the number of seventeen, in sight of their companions in the other boats, who were too far behind to arrive in time to render them any assistance, although it hardly need be said that every effort was made. The last that was seen of poor Stewart was his body being carried by one of the Dyaks into the jungle by the side of the river, and the fellow was so anxious to obtain the much-valued trophy of a white man's head, that, as he bore it along, he kept his knife sawing at the head to sever it from the body. Indeed, so much do these people value a white man's head, that they will build a separate room on purpose to contain it.

Whilst lying at this place, riding to a strong flood tide, a canoe floated past us, in which we could discern two dead bodies; they were both dressed as Malays, and the garments were good. Over the bows of the canoe there hung a handsomely ornamented kris. We tried to hook the canoe with the boat-hook, but the strength of the tide was so great that we could not succeed in securing it, and it floated away with the stream. We presumed that they were the bodies of some of the Malays killed in the recent conflict, who probably inhabited a higher portion of the river, and that they had been put into the canoe by their friends to be carried home, and had been swept away by the tide from not having been securely fastened, for nothing would have induced the enemy thus to make us a present of two heads.

"We weighed, in company with the steamer and boats, on the same evening, and returned to Kuchin, where we arrived on the following day. The men-of-war boats having been towed by the steamer, we arrived some time before the native prahus belonging to the river, which had accompanied us. On the following day they arrived, and the scene was novel and interesting. They all rounded the point together, dressed out with flags of all descriptions, beating their gongs and tom-toms, and firing blank cartridges from their "Leilas." Highly elated with their victory, and with the plunder which had accompanied it, they celebrated it by all getting excessively drunk that night upon shamsoo.

We remained at Kuchin for three days, enjoying Mr. Brooke's hospitality; and during that time it was proposed and arranged that we should pay a visit to the river Loondoo, the residence of a very remarkable tribe of Dyaks under Mr. Brooke's authority; but not being able to fix the exact period for the visit, on that night we returned to the ship.

We had not been much more than twenty-four hours on board, when the captain, who had been away, returned at midnight; and, at this unusual hour, ordered all the boats, manned and armed, to be piped away immediately. We were informed that the river Sakarron was again our destination; and at four o'clock in the morning we started, with fourteen days' provisions, and armed to the teeth, to join the Dido's boats at the mouth of the river Morotabis, from thence to be towed with them by the steamer to our destination. The cause of this new expedition was the intelligence that the Arab chief, Serib Saib, who had escaped during the late conflict, had returned to the Sakarron to collect together and re-organize his piratical subjects. We soon arrived at the same spot which we had before visited when the town had been burnt down; but the expedition proved to be one of little interest. Notwithstanding his threats, Serib Saib's confidence gave way at the approach of our force, and he made a precipitate retreat up the river, accompanied by four or five hundred of his warriors. Nevertheless, we continued to force our way up the river, with the expectation that, when fairly at bay, he would make a stand. Our advance was made known to the enemy by fires lighted on the different hills abreast of the boats. This speedy mode of communication is adopted by all the natives in this part of the world. Determined not to abandon the pursuit while a chance remained, we followed the redoubtable Serib Saib for eighty miles up the river, which in some parts was too narrow for our boats' crews to make use of their oars; but all obstacles were overcome in the ardour of the chase.

To impede our progress, large trees had been felled so as to fall across the river where it was narrow; but these were removed, and we forced our way on. At last the river, as we approached the source, became little wider than a ditch, the barges grounded, and could proceed no farther; the gigs only could float, and we continued, till, after forty-eight hours of severe labour, we found ourselves at the head of the river; and we also discovered that Serib Saib had escaped, having with his whole force landed, and made his way through the jungle into the interior, leaving at our disposal the forty war canoes which had carried him and his men. To follow him was impossible; so we were obliged to content ourselves with the capture of the war canoes, which were all that we had to show for our exertions. Disappointed, and hungry withal, we were not sorry to find ourselves once more with our heads down the river.

I must not omit, however, to narrate a little trick played upon our gallant captain. I have stated that the river was so narrow near its source that we could not use the oars, and the gigs, which continued the pursuit, had to be hauled through the bushes by the boat-hooks. Returning to where the larger boats had been left aground, our bow-man, who was employed shooting the gig along by such aid as the branches of the trees, or the tendrils which hung to them, afforded him, stuck his boat-hook into what appeared to be a suspended ball of moss; but he soon discovered that it was something more, as it was a nest of hornets, which sallied out in great numbers, and resented the insult to their domicile by attacking the bowman first, as the principal aggressor, and us afterwards, as parties concerned. Now the sting of a hornet is no joke; we covered our faces with our handkerchiefs, or any thing we could find, and made a hasty retreat from the spot, pushing the gig down the stream, till we were clear of their attacks. In the hurry of our escape we left the boat-hook hanging in the hornet's nest, and not feeling at all inclined to go back for it, we hailed the captain's gig, which was following us, and requested very humbly that they would be pleased to recover our boat-hook for us, as we could not well re-ascend the stream from the want of it. As we did not mention that it was so peculiarly situated, the captain saw no objection, and as they came to where it hung, his bow-man caught hold of the staff, and wrested it from its position; but this time such force was used that the tendril gave way, and the nest itself fell down into the boat, and the irritated insects poured out their whole force to revenge this second aggression. The insects after all appeared to have a knowledge of the service, for they served out their stings in the same proportion as the prize-money is divided: the captain came in for his full share.