“Yes.”
“And have you turned over the baleh-baleh and the cushions?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” cried the man, impatiently. “I am no child, I suppose.”
“No, you are no child,” jeered Singo, “but you are one of the greatest fools in the world; as stupid as one of those oxen! Now, just you come along with me,” he added, after having flung these amenities at the head of his pig-tailed countryman. “Just you come along with me and you will see that my eyes are better than yours. You could see nothing; but I shall manage to ferret out something before long. Those mangy dessa-dogs always have opium about them.”
The wretch seemed to forget that in that very dessa he had himself first seen the light; however—that is the way of the world!
So the four men set out once again to Setrosmito’s house; and once again, as before, did the Javanese attempt to insist upon searching the persons of his unwelcome visitors before allowing them to enter. But Singomengolo would have nothing of the kind. He refused point-blank to submit to any search. Said he, in his blustering way: “You lay your hands on me and I will thrash you like a mangy cur!” Setrosmito tried to protest; but it was in vain. “Aye, aye,” said he, “if that be the case then I have but little doubt that they will find anything they want. I know all about those tricks. Kabajan,” he continued, as he turned to one of the chief men of the dessa, who stood looking on among the crowd which was rapidly assembling. “Kabajan, I call upon you to witness what is about to happen here.”
But the latter, who had the greatest horror of coming into collision with the wretches of the opium monopoly, made no reply whatever to the old man’s appeal, and quietly slipped away.
Singomengolo, with a brutal and defiant laugh, entered the hut with his followers. It so happened that at the moment, Setrosmito’s little children also came in. The two boys and their sister had just returned from the common, and opened their eyes wide at seeing so many people assembled round their father’s house. The two boys were eight and nine years of age. Like most of the young Javanese children, they had pretty little faces, with the funniest expression in their twinkling and roguish dark-brown eyes; but their appearance was, to a European eye, wholly spoilt by the manner in which their heads had been treated. They were clean shaven except one single tuft of hair of about a hand’s breadth, which the razor had spared and which one of the boys wore on the top of his head, and the other over his left ear. They had the well-formed and supple limbs which are characteristic of their race, and were exceedingly slender in the waist. These natural advantages were seen to the greatest advantage since, in accordance with the primitive customs of the island, they ran about completely naked, with nothing on at all except a silver ring round each ankle. The little girl, a child of seven, was remarkably pretty, her well-formed childish face peeping out charmingly under a profusion of jet-black glossy hair. Her arms were bare, and the only clothing she wore was a bright-coloured patchwork apron which was secured round the hips by a slender chain of silver, from which dangled a small ornamental plate of the same metal. When they ran into the hut they found Singomengolo very busy indeed turning over the contents of boxes and prying into pots and pans, while their father was most carefully watching every gesture he made, and was not allowing a single motion of his nimble hands to pass unnoticed. This close attention vexed the wretched spy beyond measure, who thus saw his wicked plan frustrated, because, while those keen eyes were upon his fingers, he could not even attempt to exercise his sleight of hand without being instantly detected. In the hope therefore of distracting the father’s attention, Singo made a sign to the Chinaman, who, with his slanting eyes, sat looking at the children and leering most offensively at pretty little Kembang. The man understood the signal and at once seized one of the boys, and, under the pretence of searching for concealed opium, he felt all over their little bodies, under the armpits, in fact, anywhere wherever a little mandat-ball could by any possibility lie hidden. The boys kicked and fought under this disgusting treatment and did all they could to bite and scratch the dirty scoundrel; but not a single cry did they utter which might draw away their father’s eyes from the manipulations of Singomengolo. But when the bandoelan laid hold of the girl and strove to tear off her apron, the poor child could not repress a loud cry of terror, she tore herself away from his rude grasp, and flying to her mother, tried to hide herself on her breast, while the poor woman clasped her child in her arms as if to protect it from further insult. It was, however, in vain; the Chinaman with his sickly yellow face came up to the mother and, with the help of his two assistants, wrenched the poor girl from the woman’s arms, who was wholly unable to resist their violence.
“Your turn next,” cried the Chinaman to the mother, “that young cat has had plenty of time to pass the stuff to you. Keep your seat!”
Then the disgusting scene through which the two boys had passed was re-enacted on this helpless child—a proceeding infinitely more loathsome, inasmuch as its victim was a little creature of the tender sex towards whom the wretch thought he might with impunity act as he pleased.