Late in the afternoon of the third day, when we anxiously awaited the return of the advanced division, our outposts first of all descried two or three small parties of Dayaks evidently of our force, wending their way slowly over hill and dale. On their nearer approach, we plainly saw wounded men carried by them. Whispers spread—gradually and quietly at first, but they soon became more distinct—that our party had failed. In the evening the chiefs arrived and came forward to report progress, looking haggard, thin, and exhausted. The story was as follows—they had walked at a fast pace the whole of the first day over the steepest hills, sometimes without any path, and the guides at a nonplus for the proper direction; from morning till night they scarcely halted, under a scorching sun; and parched with thirst without any hope of water. At night, by moonlight, they pushed on again, until they nearly fell from exhaustion, when they slept in any position with their arms on. About 3 A.M. they again advanced, and, at the opening of dawn, the most active Dayaks, reaching the enemy's house, advanced upon it without order, and as the leaders were mounting the ladder, they were struck off one after another by hundreds of men inside, dressed in fighting costumes, and headed by the whole of the Saribas tribe, men heretofore on every occasion on land, victorious. Our poor leaders had to retire to guard their wounded and dying, while the enemy were yelling, cheering, and beating gongs; and even their women, dressed in their best clothes, were clapping their hands, and urging their sweethearts to the encounter.
As the sun rose, some of the strongest of the Malay force came up within shot, and took up quarters behind trees and opened fire upon the house. This stopped the cheering within, but in no way daunted the enemy. About an hour after, our elderly chiefs came up, viewed the house of the enemy, sat down on the hillside in a sheltered position, and were so exhausted that children might have hacked their heads off. They stopped all advance of their party, and while the oldest chiefs were suffering severely from fatigue, a palaver was opened, the result being that some of the enemy came down, mixed with our people, then partook of sirih and betel-nut in a friendly manner, and promised to show our party the nearest way back, and provide them with provisions for their journey. On their part they engaged to be answerable for the payment of a "death fine" for the men they had killed some months previously.
News that a large expedition had been organised against Dandi had reached Apai Dendang before the departure of the force from Sekrang, and he had summoned to his assistance all the bravest men of the Saribas tribe, and the principal leaders of every head-hunting expedition for some time past; nevertheless he was unwilling to drive matters to an extremity, having a wholesome dread of the white men. This rendered him ready to treat and buy off the expedition with a promise of indemnity for murders recently committed.
A fatal want of discretion had been shown in the whole affair, no trustworthy guides had been engaged, no inquiry made as to whether the Saribas were coming up to the succour of Apai Dendang, no English leaders were sent forward with the rabble of assailants, and that rabble had attacked in straggling detachments, when exhausted with hard marching and with thirst.
We returned home with feelings that can be better imagined than described. The Dayaks said that the omens had been bad from the outset; the Malays said if they had only been there, the result would have been different; and the Europeans said—nothing.
In August, 1854, the Rajah arrived at Lingga with a large force which had been collected at Kuching, and proceeded to Sekrang, taking with him the Tuan Muda; The Tuan Besar, together with other European officers, who had come with the Rajah, also lent their aid. The object was to attack Rentap in his fastness in Sungei Lang. The whole force numbered 7000 Malays and Dayaks. To prevent the Saribas from sending their fighting men to the assistance of Rentap, the Datu Temanggong was despatched with a flotilla up that river to menace their villages and to hold the Saribas warriors in check. Mr. Steele[[195]] was to lead another party up the Kanowit to threaten the Dayaks of that river and its branches the Kajulau and Entabai, with a rear attack should they cross over to the Saribas. Mr. Steele had been thrice attacked at Kanowit fort, but now he could muster fifteen hundred men and take the offensive, and, though possibly he would have to do no fighting, his force would deter the Kajulaus from sending aid to Rentap. The expedition was thoroughly well thought out.
The Rajah, with the main body, leaving the Sekrang fort, ascended the river for about thirty miles to a place called Entaban. The heavy prahus were brought thus far with great difficulty, owing to the rapids, and beyond that point it was impossible to proceed in them. Accordingly a stockade was erected, and the Tuan Besar was placed in command of the expedition by land to Sungei Lang, with his brother, the Tuan Muda, Mr. Crookshank, Mr. Brereton, and four other English officers to assist. The Rajah's health would not admit of his undertaking the arduous march. He remained behind with a strong force to protect the flotilla.
Although the heavy war boats could ascend no farther, it was possible for part of the force to continue the ascent of the river in light boats, and this was done, the Europeans and Malays marching.
To continue the narrative from the Tuan Muda's description:—
We had Dayak guides, and could not have proceeded without them. Our land force consisted mostly of Malays, and numbered about 500 men—the Sekrang Dayaks were in their boats. About 4 P.M. we halted on the brink of the river and prepared to spend the night with a stockade around. This was in the enemy's country, although there were many people living near who were neither the one thing nor the other. The following morning we proceeded again in the same order, but before mid-day many of our party were quite exhausted, and there was really no road to follow but the muddy banks of the river, so we halted, and after our mid-day meal it was decided that we were all to crowd in with the floating force. And thus we pushed on, but in a most comfortless condition with regard to space. We spent the night at Tabbat, and fortified ourselves here also. My subsequent experience of the localities has proved that we should never have reached our destination on foot, keeping company with the boats. On the fourth day we spied the enemy's position, situated on a hill cleared of all old jungle and showing recent preparations of defence around their dwellings. Our heavy armament consisted of 4- and 3-pounder guns and rocket tubes.