Ran away from the Dutch

by M. T. H. Perelaer

At four in the afternoon when the fleet, to which the Samoehingese had now joined themselves, arrived at the mouth of the soengei Sirat, nothing of a suspicious nature had been yet observed. Some of the Poenans stepped ashore to reconnoitre the territory as they intended to pass the night there, but they soon returned with the report that on the northern bank of the soengei, about two hundred steps from the shore, a distinct trail had been discovered in the long grass, indicating that a large number of men had recently passed. Harimaoung Boekit and Dalim, as true forest spies, at once set out to examine the trail while Johannes, Schlickeisen and Wienersdorf with the Dayaks accompanied them as covers, armed with rifles.

The reconnoitring party soon returned; it had been ascertained that the trail was quite fresh and left by a numerous band who had travelled from west to east, as proved by the footsteps observed in the spots bare of grass. They had followed the trail for about a thousand yards, where it emerged into the Kapoeas and turned towards the north. On this sandy soil it became so clearly defined as to leave no doubt of the presence of a large number of people at no great distance. Harimaoung Boekit also fancied that he had heard some human voices coming from that direction. Be that as it may, the greatest precaution was undoubtedly necessary. They therefore resolved to hide their rangkans behind a sharp [[284]]curve in the southern bank while four Dayaks armed with rifles were posted in some trees to guard the upper stream. Half of the men would keep awake, rifles in hand, and be prepared to act energetically in any emergency. At the place where they had moved their rangkans some huge trees were felled along the banks which, with the shrubs, would form an obstruction difficult to be passed without challenging their attention. Our travellers would soon become aware of the necessity for these precautions.

About midnight one of the sentries observed something float by in the soengei strongly resembling the trunk of a tree. He thought it might be a crocodile, and he therefore whistled softly to draw the attention of the men in the canoes, fearing lest the monster should utilize the opportunity by pouncing upon some unlucky member of the crew to disappear with him in the dark depths of the river. After giving his warning whistle the sentry noticed that the tree or crocodile was moving towards the shore and was followed by about fifty similar objects. Their movements by no means resembled the noiseless motion of a crocodile, besides which the presence of so many following the first was opposed to the habits of these animals. He therefore became certain that there was something in the wind. He discharged his rifle, and his companions hearing the signal also opened fire. The shots had hardly sounded in the midnight silence when a savage yell was heard from behind the obstruction. Several figures now appeared trying to break through the barrier, a few of them succeeding. Fortunately the night was not dark, the air was calm and the stars shone brightly, partly illuminating the scene. Nothing could be observed of what was going on behind the obstruction, but every figure that [[285]]surmounted it became distinctly apparent against the faintly lit background and was exposed to the well-aimed bullets of the four Europeans. The Dayaks, who had also been entrusted with rifles, began under the influence of their native impetuosity to open a deafening discharge. The Europeans, more collected, only fired whenever they saw a dark figure hurrying towards the river, and they rarely missed their mark. The two Swiss took no share in the firing but carefully reserved their ammunition for moments of imminent danger. Their precaution was not in vain, for suddenly a large number of assailants succeeded in creeping through the obstruction and, mandauws in hand, rapidly sped toward the river to throw themselves on the rangkans. The women commenced to shriek and were almost mad with despair, but the two Swiss now joined in the struggle and firing calmly and deliberately made a couple of the assailants bite the dust at each discharge. Their rifles sounded regularly and did good execution among the Doessonese who approached the river. A few of them, however, managed to creep through the fire, threw themselves into the river and grasped the rangkans, which they tried desperately to capsize. Now arrived the turn of the Dayaks: their mandauws cleft some skulls and lopped some hands, sending the dissevered fingers in the laps of the women. A few shrieks, a few groans, some death struggles, and the work was done. The assailants dropped into the stream to become, whether dead or wounded, a prey to the crocodiles.

All was now quiet along the banks of the river, so quiet that one could hardly have credited that only a few moments before a struggle for life and death had taken place on this spot. The [[286]]Swiss hastened to reload their Remingtons and all prepared for further emergencies.

Four rifle shots were suddenly heard, followed by cries of terror. They came from the four sentries who were still seated in the trees and who were now being attacked. Our travellers could distinctly perceive figures climbing into these trees, greatly endangering the safety of the sentries whose heads the assailants were bent upon securing. Upon seeing this Harimaoung Boekit and his Poenans quietly took to the water, and when they had reached the shore the Europeans fired into the trees, aiming at those of the enemy who were uppermost. This caused them to tumble from their perches and in their fall to dislodge all who were following them. The Poenans now came into action.

With loud cries they threw themselves upon the terrified enemy, wielding their mandauws vigorously and unsparingly. Hoarse shrieks of despair, terror, rage and disappointment were heard during this fight with the naked weapon. After a short interval the Poenans returned to their boats, each bearing at least one reeking human head in his hands while several carried two or three. A loud hurrah from the throats of all the Dayaks, women as well as men, greeted the conquerors. But no sooner had this welcome been given than renewed cries of alarm were heard and the sentries pointed towards the river as the spot whence danger now threatened them. Four rangkans heavily manned were seen coming down the soengei, making for the vessels of our travellers. They were received by the Dayaks with a well-sustained rifle fire in which the Europeans soon joined. Courageous as the Doessonese were, such a shower of bullets [[287]]proved too much for them. They soon counted many dead and wounded and attempted to retire. As soon as they commenced their retreat, which was somewhat retarded by the strong tide, Johannes collected all his armed men and made them fire a few volleys. The other three Europeans calmly took aim, fired with deliberation, and by their clever marksmanship sent death and destruction among the hostile vessels. Three of the rangkans made good their retreat, but the fourth seemed to find some difficulty in contending against the current. Despite the desperate attempts of the crew it remained almost in the same spot swaying backwards and forwards. One after another the oarsmen were being shot down, when, as if to embrace their only remaining chance of escape, the survivors leaped into the river to save themselves by flight, leaving the rangkan to float down with the strong tide. At sight of this the Poenans could not be restrained. In the twinkling of an eye they had boarded the rangkan, decapitating every dead and wounded man found therein. The bodies were then thrown into the water and the captured vessel towed on shore as an accession to their own fleet.

Eight-and-twenty heads had been captured and the greater part of the men were soon busy cleaning them. The spectacle was something horrible to the Europeans; for a moment they were spellbound by the sight, but then they made haste to leave the dreadful scene.

The night passed undisturbed and at daybreak half of the Dayaks and all the Poenans went ashore, decapitated the enemies found dead or wounded near the barrier and threw their bodies into the river. The number of skulls now captured amounted [[288]]to thirty-nine. On reconnoitring both banks of the soengei they concluded that they had been attacked by two distinct sections of the enemy, one of them being the party whose trail they had discovered on the previous day. If both assaults had been simultaneous the result might have been most disastrous.

It was henceforth necessary to be doubly watchful. They had tried conclusions with the enemy and although they had sustained no loss, the experience gained taught them that they had to deal with a courageous and enterprising foe. Johannes consequently arranged that the rangkan containing himself and his companions should form the advance guard; the Europeans were no longer to take part in the rowing, but were to keep a sharp lookout with Dalim and Amai Kotong in order to be ready with their unerring fire whenever necessary. Harimaoung Boekit and his Poenans would form the rear guard, to which he added a few more men carrying rifles, wherewith to discharge alarm or signal shots when required. That these precautions were not taken too soon was speedily proved.

It was about nine in the morning; they had rowed on unflaggingly and up till now nothing had been seen of the enemy. Suddenly Dalim uttered a low cry and pointed towards a man, who, nearly hidden by the trunk of a tree, was busy apparently cutting down some rattan ropes with his mandauw.