On the day appointed he appeared before the council, armed, and accompanied by his brother, both resting their hands upon the handles of their krisses, a movement which among the Malays proclaims no feelings of amity. In this attitude of preparation they walked into the audience room, which was crowded with a host of enemies. The council decided, that if on a certain day he would produce a specified sum of money the girl should be his, and he should return unmolested. The sum named was exorbitant, but the Malay chief agreed to the payment, and was permitted to depart.
When the day of payment arrived, the council sat as before, and the Malay chief again made his appearance; but this time he came alone, his brother being absent on a piratical expedition. He had, in consequence of his violent affection for the girl, made every attempt to raise the stipulated sum, but could not succeed. He brought all that he could collect, but it fell far short of the sum which had been agreed upon, and he requested time to procure the remainder. The council consulted a while, and then stipulated, that the chief, not having brought the sum agreed upon, should leave his kris as a pledge till the rest should be forthcoming. The kris that the chief wore was itself of great value, very handsomely ornamented with precious stones. It had belonged to his ancestors, and was, as they always are, highly prized, and they knew that it would, if possible, be reclaimed. The chief was most reluctant to part with it, but his love for his mistress overcame his scruples, and also his prudence, for it left him unarmed amidst his implacable enemies. He pulled out his kris, and laid it on the table upon the money, and was busy disengaging the sheath to add to it, when, by a signal from the rajah, he was seized from behind. He started up, but it was too late; his trusty weapon, which had so often stood by him in his need, was no longer within his reach, and he was in a moment transfixed with a dozen blades, falling a victim to his love of the girl and the treachery of his foes.
After passing two very pleasant days at Kuchin, we prepared to descend the river. I have omitted to say that Mr. Treecher, the surgeon, was fond of natural history, and possessed a very tolerable collection of birds, and other animals indigenous to the country. I was shown several skeletons of the orang outang, some of which were of great size. There is no want of these animals in the jungle, but a living specimen is not easy to procure; I saw but one, an adult female, belonging to Mr. Brooke. It was very gentle in its manners, and, when standing upright, might have measured three feet six inches.
PROBOSCIS MONKEY.
On board of the Phlegethon there were two specimens of the wa-wa, or long-armed ape, which had been presented to Mr. Brooke by one of the neighbouring rajahs, and they are by the natives considered very valuable. Their affection when domesticated is remarkable; their first act when they meet one they know is to leap upon your breast and embrace you with their arms, just like a child will its mother, and they will remain, if permitted, in this position for hours, and complain if removed. Their cry is very plaintive, and, heard at night in the jungle, sounds like that of a female in distress. I was given to understand that in the presents made by chiefs, a scarce variety of monkey is often the principal gift, and most esteemed.
The scarcest monkey in Borneo is the proboscis, or long-nosed. I saw but two specimens of this animal, one a female, with the nose very long, and pendulous at the extremity; the other a male, very young, and with the nose more or less prominent, and giving its face a more actual resemblance to that of a man's than I had ever before seen. This monkey has never, I believe, been brought to England alive. The British Museum has a stuffed specimen. It is not so mischievous in its habits as the tribe in general.
As Rajah Muda Hassan has been so frequently mentioned, it may be as well to give a succinct outline of his history. At the death of the late sultan, Muda Hassan was the heir-apparent to the throne, but he resigned in favour of his nephew, retaining the office of prime minister, which office he had held during the former reign, not only to the satisfaction of the sultan, but also of the people, with whom he was deservedly a great favourite. His influence, being even greater than that of the sultan, occasioned a jealous feeling, and a contention of party, which induced Muda Hassan to retire to Sarawak with his wives and personal attendants. He was succeeded in his office of prime minister by an Arab, Pangeran Usop, a man of unbounded ambition, who by his harsh and tyrannical conduct soon became hated by the Brunese, who longed for the return of Muda Hassan, under whose sway they had been quiet and happy. Pangeran Usop, aware of the popular feeling, now considered Muda Hassan as his enemy, and took every opportunity of vilifying and creating suspicion of Muda Hassan on the mind of the sultan, who was little better than an idiot. He asserted that Muda Hassan and his brother Bud-ruddeen were leagued with the English, and were their only supporters in their pretensions to the isle of Labuan, and that they would assist the English in taking possession of Borneo.
These reports, although at first treated with disdain, continually repeated had their effect, not only upon the sultan, but upon the people; and Muda Hassan, who was informed of what had been going on, and had not deigned to notice it, now considered that it was advisable to repair to Borneo, and refute the charges brought against him.