Baboe Dalima; or, The Opium Fiend

by M. T. H. Perelaer

Whilst he was in the first lethargic state brought on by the moderate use of the narcotic, he would be quiet, peaceful and contented, and would dose away and dream and build up for himself—for himself only—a paradise in which none but sensual pictures presented themselves to his eye and to his mind. Then as he continued to smoke, and when he reached the next stage—the stage of frenzy—he would, regardless of his children’s presence, shamelessly pursue his wife round the cabin, for at such times she seemed to him the houri of his dreams, and then, in that wretched hovel at any hour of the night or day, scenes would be enacted such as the poor innocent children ought never to have witnessed. For, at such times the man was like a brute beast, wholly incapable of bridling his degraded passions.

Then the final paroxysm would be reached, and the effect of the dreadful poison would begin to wear off; and then the wretched creature would fall into a state of utter prostration, of annihilation which for himself, and worse still for his family, was indeed a cup of woe. Then the smoker would begin to tremble all over, then he became restless and uneasy, then his entire nervous system seemed to be out of joint, then every limb would be racked with pain—then he would moan most piteously, and cry like a child, sobbing and declaring that he was at the point of death and then—yes; then there was but one single means to relieve him and to bring him back out of that state of intolerable agony, and that was once again to grasp the pipe and to fight the disease with the poison which had caused it. Then the wife had to run out to buy opium—where the money was to come from, that was her business.

Then one of the children had to knead and roll the opium-balls and another little one had to hold the lamp which, for that kind of smoking, is indispensable, and a third had to make strong coffee which was generally got by theft out of the government-plantations. And if, from sheer want of money, all this could not be done—nay even when it was not done quite quickly enough for the impatience of the nervous sufferer—then the wretched man would fill the hut with wailing and lamentation, with curses and revilings which drove its inmates to the verge of despair.

Amidst such surroundings as these Ardjan had grown up, and although he had not fallen as deeply as his father, yet in the years of his childhood, the age which is most susceptible of good or evil, his heart and mind had received the impressions which made it possible for him later on to take service on board a smuggling-brig, and to make him feel towards the company which employed him in its nefarious transactions, such loyalty as we heard him express in the djaga monjet before Lim Ho the son of Lim Yang Bing the opium farmer at Santjoemeh.

So long as Ardjan, who was the eldest son, was but a child, the family was plunged in the depths of bestial degradation; but when he had grown up and, after having served awhile as a sailor in a government vessel, had gone on board the Kiem Ping Hin, things began somewhat to mend at home in the dessa. This was especially the case when young Ardjan, who had a very good head on his shoulders, was promoted to be mate of the smuggling brig. In that capacity he had constant opportunities of handling the cargo, and of such a drug as opium, which takes up but little space, he could very easily now and then appropriate to himself quantities of comparatively considerable value. This he did the more readily, and with the less reluctance, as his notions on the meum and tuum were of the vaguest description. The opium thus pilfered he used to deliver to his father who, in this manner, was enabled, not only fully to indulge in his ruling passion, but also to dispose of the superfluity to his neighbours. In this illegal traffic Pak Ardjan frequently made considerable gains, which, however, far from being of any substantial benefit to his empoverished household, would always be squandered with lavish extravagance.

Such was the state of things when Resident van Gulpendam gave Lim Yang Bing the hint that Pak Ardjan was, in the estimation of the police, held to be a notorious smuggler.

From what has been said above it is evident that what the Resident had said was true, the police had their suspicions, and had often been on the old smuggler’s track, without ever having been able to bring the offence home to him. It must be said indeed, that so long as Ardjan was on board the Kiem Ping Hin they made no very determined efforts to convict his father. Equally true it was that Pak Ardjan, not knowing at the time that his son lay under suspicion of having brought on shore the discovered opium, had laid a formal accusation against Lim Ho, on account of the brutal manner in which he had treated his son. Now, the old opium-smoker had taken this step, not because he felt any pity for his son, nor because he wished to be revenged upon the Chinaman for the wrong he had thus inflicted upon one of his family—still less had he done so because he was anxious that the offender should receive condign punishment. Oh no, Pak Ardjan was not actuated by any such motives as these.

A short time before his adventure at the Moeara Tjatjing Ardjan had procured for his father a few katties of opium. So long as the supply lasted, the old man had not troubled himself in the least about the treatment his son had undergone; but when he saw that the supply was beginning to run low, then he began to look with apprehension to the future, and especially alarmed was he when he heard that Ardjan had exchanged the hospital for the jail. His poor muddled brain fancied that he might hasten Ardjan’s release by making a charge against Lim Ho; and he had been further encouraged to take the step by the advice of a pettifogging lawyer, who thought that, in an action against the rich son of the still more wealthy opium-farmer, he had discovered a very pretty little vein of gold. Thus the charge was, in the proper form, laid before the Court at Santjoemeh and a prosecution against Lim Ho was ordered accordingly.

This matter the president of the Council had put into the hands of his young colleague, van Nerekool, and he, most anxious that justice should be done and that the miscreant should pay the legal penalty for his offence; and glad also, thus to be able to perform the promise which he had made to Anna, the fair daughter of the Resident, that he would do his best to save Dalima’s lover, had readily undertaken the case, and was confident that he would be able to bring it to a successful issue.

But, on a certain afternoon, while the sun was yet high in the heavens, Pak Ardjan had gone to have a look at his store of opium which he had secreted by burying it deep in the ground, and heaping over the place a heavy layer of stones. Much to his regret he found, upon opening his store, that, at the most, he had but a couple of taël left. These he proceeded to carry home with him; for he had promised some opium-smoking friends to let them have a supply that evening, and, as they were good customers and paid him handsomely, he would not disappoint them.