Borneo and the Indian Archipelago / with drawings of costume and scenery

by Frank Marryat

Returning rather in a bad humour at having had so long a pull for nothing, we anchored off a fortified Malay town, which went by the name of Bintang, and which had been brought to terms by Captain Keppell on a previous expedition up the river. The people had consequently remained neutral, although it was well known that they were not to be trusted, and that, had we been defeated above and beaten back, they would, in all probability, have attacked us in the rear. As the evening closed in, by way of astonishing the natives, and giving them some idea of our perfect equipment, the boats were directed to give a feu-de-joie. Some fifteen guns, with rockets, port-fires, blue lights, supported by a well-sustained roulade of musketry, had a very warlike effect; and, no doubt, gave the natives an impression of our superiority in the use of fire-arms. At the conclusion, Captain Keppell, who was always ready for fun, gave out the order that all hands were to join in "God save the Queen," taking the time from him. A dead silence was immediately produced, waiting for him to lead off, which he did; but, to our great amusement, he, by mistake, commenced with "Rule Britannia;" and this, being more to the seamen's taste, certainly, as far as lungs were concerned, was done most ample justice to.

The saying is, "No song no supper;" of course it must be presumed that a song deserves a supper. It proved so in this instance; for just as the chorus was hushed, the Sultan of Bintang, as he styles himself, sent off to the head boat (the one I happened to be in) a superb supper for seven people, consisting of seven bronze trays, each tray containing about a dozen small plates, in which were many varieties of flesh and fowl cooked in a very superior manner. To each tray was a spoon, made of the yellow leaf of some tree unknown; but, as specimens of primitive elegance and utility combined, they were matchless. We had some doubts, from our knowledge of the treachery of the Malays, whether we should fall to upon these appetising viands, as there was no saying but that they might be poisoned. Mr. Brooke, however, who, although not the commandant, was the mentor of the party, explained that he invariably observed one rule when treating and dealing with these people,—which was, never to exhibit any unworthy suspicion of them, as, by so doing, they became convinced of our own integrity and honour. That this confidence might have, in many instances, proved dangerous, unless adopted with great caution, must be admitted; but in our relations with the people on the rivers of Borneo it was of great service. The Malays are so very suspicious themselves, that nothing but confidence on your part will remove the feeling; and, in treating with Malays, this is the first object to be obtained. The remarks of Mr. Brooke, which were not a little assisted by the tempting nature of the viands, and no small degree of hunger, had the effect, and the trays were all cleared out in consequence.

While I was in this river I was capsized by a bore. This, I must explain to my non-nautical readers, is a huge rolling wave, which is as upright as a wall, and travels almost as fast as a locomotive. It is occasioned by the flood tide pouring in and overcoming the feeders to the river, forcing them back to their source. On this occasion I was pulling down the river in a small gig, following the other boats, which had turned up another branch of it, when I perceived it rapidly advancing, and making a noise not unlike the animal of the same name, only a great deal louder. Had I been steering a straight course down the river I should have faced it, and probably have got off with the boat half full of water; but I calculated upon reaching the point and entering the branch of the river before its arrival. But I had not calculated upon its speed, and a strong eddy current at the point was wicked enough to draw our boat broadside to the middle of the stream.

The wall of water rushed on us, turned us over and over; but fortunately by its force it also threw us all, with the gig, upon the point. It did not, however, throw us our oars, which were performing a pas de quatre in a whirlpool close to us. This was a narrow escape, as, had we remained in the agitated waters, the alligators would soon have dragged us under. For two minutes the river was in a state of ebullition, but gradually subsided. We then launched the boat, regained our oars, and proceeded to join our comrades. Thankful as we were for our lives having been preserved, still as we were wet through and had lost all our provisions and necessaries, we were compelled to admit that it was a very great bore.

Shortly after our leaving this river a fatal accident happened to one of our best men. The wind was blowing a heavy gale from the westward, accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as is only to be seen and heard on the coast of Borneo. The carpenters were on shore felling trees for masts and yards, and as we were anchored some distance from the shore a tent was pitched for their accommodation. They had not been in the tent long when a large iron-wood tree was struck by lightning, and fell, burying one of the carpenters, Miller by name, in the sand underneath it. He was extricated with great difficulty; but before any surgical assistance could be rendered him he was a corpse. On examination most of his bones were found to be crushed.

Soon after our return from the Sakarron the expedition to Loondoo was arranged, and we started in the barge and gig, accompanied by Captain Keppell in his own boat, and Mr. Brooke and Hentig in one of the native boats, called a Tam-bang. The distance was about forty miles, and we should have arrived at four o'clock in the afternoon, but, owing to the narrowness of the channel, and a want of knowledge of the river, we grounded on the flats, where we lay high and dry for the space of four hours. Floating with the following tide, we discovered the proper channel, and found our way up the river, although the night was dark as pitch: when near the town, we anchored for daylight.

I may as well here give a slight description of the scenery on the Borneo rivers, all of which, that we have visited, with the exception of the Bruni, bear a close resemblance to each other. They are far from picturesque or beautiful, for the banks are generally low, and the jungle invariably extends to the water's edge. For the first fifteen or twenty miles the banks are lined with the nepa-palms, which then gradually disappear, leaving the mangrove alone to clothe the sides of the stream. When you enter these rivers, it is rare to see any thing like a human habitation for many miles; reach after reach, the same double line of rich foliage is presented, varying only in the description of trees and bushes as the water becomes more fresh; now and then a small canoe may be seen rounding a point, or you may pass the stakes which denote that formerly there had been a fishing station. At last a hut appears on the bank, probably flanked with one or two Banana trees. You turn into the next reach and suddenly find yourself close to one or more populous and fortified towns. As you ascend higher the scenery becomes much more interesting and varied from the mangroves disappearing. Few of the rivers of Borneo are more than eighty miles in extent. The two rivers of Bruni and Coran are supposed to meet in the centre of the island, although for many miles near their source they are not much wider than a common ditch.

Before day-light of the following morning our slumbers were disturbed by the crowing of a whole army of cocks, which assured us of the proximity of the town we were in search of. We got under weigh, and, rounding the point, Loondoo hove in sight, a fine town, built in a grove of cocoa-nut trees, and by no means despicably fortified. We found our progress arrested by a boom composed of huge trees fastened together by coir cables, and extending the whole width of the river. Had our intentions been hostile, it would have taken some time to have cut the fastenings of this boom, and we should, during the operation, have been exposed to a double line of fire from two forts raised on each side of the river. The Chief of Loondoo had, however, been duly advised of our intended visit, and as soon as our boats were seen from the town, a head-man was sent out in a canoe to usher us in. After a little delay we got the barge within the boom. When within, we found that we had further reason to congratulate ourselves that we came as friends, as the raking fire from the forts would have been most effectual, for we discovered that we had to pass an inner boom equally well secured as the first. The town was surrounded by a strong stockade made of the trunks of the knee-bone palm, a wood superior in durability to any known. This stockade had but one opening of any dimensions. A few strokes of the oars brought us abreast of it, and we let go our anchors. The eldest son of the Chief came to us immediately in a canoe. He was a splendidly formed young man, about twenty-five years old. He wore his hair long and flowing, his countenance was open and ingenuous, his eyes black and knowing. His dress was a light blue velvet jacket without sleeves, and a many-coloured sash wound round his waist. His arms and legs, which were symmetrical to admiration, were naked, but encircled with a profusion of heavy brass rings. He brought a present of fowls, cocoa-nuts, and bananas to Mr. Brooke from his father, and an invitation for us to pay him a visit at his house whenever we should feel inclined.