A History of Sarawak under Its Two White Rajahs 1839-1908

by S. Baring-Gould; C. A. Bampfylde

The "Iron Anchor" maintained his position manfully, and well merited his name.

On that day, June 8, the force proceeded to stockade the position gained at the Rapu end of the mountain, confronting that occupied by the fortress of Rentap, which was not above four hundred yards off. This latter was a formidable stockade of iron-wood, impervious to rifle shots, with precipices to the right and left; and the stockade was commanded by the high-placed houses inside, from which volleys could be poured on an attacking army, that must advance in a narrow file along the backbone of rock leading to it. Indeed, to assail the fort from the northern extremity seemed doomed to failure, the few men leading could be picked off and would roll down the declivities on this side or that, or encumber the path by which those behind were pressing on, and expose them also to be shot down, for the enemy possessed muskets, cannon, and also a swivel captured when Lee was killed.

During the eight days they remained on the hill it rained incessantly, and the force suffered severely from cold, finding little shelter in their leaking huts, the earth floors of which were soon converted into pools of mire. On the 9th, thinking that the force in advancing towards Rentap's fortification, had left its rear unguarded, a body of the enemy that had marched to Rentap's assistance made an attack on the camp, but they soon found out their mistake, and were easily beaten off. The next day a division of Dayaks and Malays proceeded against Rentap's allies, whom they drove back, and whose houses they plundered and burnt. On the following days other parties were sent out to do the enemy as much harm as possible, and to deter them from joining Rentap's party in the stockade, or harassing the main assailing force. In the meantime the Tuan Muda had attempted to get his men to storm the fortress at night, promising to lead the way himself; but they would not face the risk, though later on they consented to attack the place in force. Three days were spent in constructing portable screens of laths and bamboos, under the cover of which parties could progress along the dangerous ridge and make an attempt to set fire to the stockade. At mid-day on the 15th the attack commenced.

I took up my position with a rifle, and watched for movements among the enemy, but the active work I left to Aing, who, drawn sword in hand, superintended with much activity. The sounds were deafening, and the fellows carried the wood and materials under the fire of Rentap's guns. At 4 P.M. my party had attained to within six or seven yards from the outer fort, and the scene was truly exciting. Our enemies evidently were not numerous. They threw stones from the inside which fell on the heads of our fellows, and used muskets, together with a swivel. At half-past five our leader, crouching under the moving stockade, called for fire, and the wood collected was in considerable quantities. At this juncture Aing fell, wounded by a musket shot. Then evening set in, and we were obliged to return to our quarters. The enemy yelled in triumph at our departure.

The wood collected had been so saturated with rain that it refused to kindle.

As I lay down to rest at night, I gave up all thought of gaining Rentap's fortress, but resolved to see what could be done elsewhere. When I rose the last morning, the enemy was yelling, and my first desire was to get about a hundred of the strongest young fellows together, command myself, and proceed to Atui, where there were three long houses of enemies, about six hours' walk distant. This I promised to do in three days, when I would return here and march back with the whole force. I could obtain no volunteers; some said they were sick, others out of provisions, and I was obliged to bow to circumstances, and at eight o'clock our party began to descend the mountain.

The retreat was conducted without serious molestation by the enemy, but, on reaching Antu, it was found that owing to the rain a freshet had come down, the river rising twelve feet, and had swept the stockade away and carried off over seventy of the boats. The discouragement was great, and the return down the river was not effected without some annoyance from the enemy, who hid in the jungle and fired on the party as, in overcrowded boats, it descended the Sekrang. None were thus killed, but some were drowned.

Thus ended the first expedition against Sadok. It had done something, though no serious damage, but it exalted the confidence of Rentap in the impregnability of his stronghold. Practically it had been a failure, and so it was felt to be among Malays and Dayaks generally. The unrest in the country became more accentuated, and the daring of the Saribas increased.

In April, 1858, the Tuan Muda says:

I had for many months been tormented by the affairs in Saribas, which had been for generations the hotbed of head-hunters and piracy in every shape. The people were becoming more audacious, and I found it had been to no purpose holding communication with even the Malays, who, a few days ago, refused to receive a letter, and declared they intended shortly to ascend the river and live with the Dayaks, and eat pork as they did. It was evident that a crisis was approaching which would require resolute action, or our prestige would be injured in this quarter. This we could by no means afford to lose, as stoppage of all trade and communication on the coast would inevitably ensue.