“September 3d.—After parting interviews we quitted the city at two, and arrived aboard her majestyʼs ship cruiser at eight P.M. To-morrow morning we sail for Sarāwak, where, at any rate, I hope for rest for a month or two.
“19th.—Sarāwak. Thus concludes a large volume. Captain Bethune and myself, with Commander Fanshawe and a party of Cruisers, returned from a five daysʼ excursion among the Dyaks, having visited the Suntah, Stang, Sigo, and Sanpro tribes. It was a progress; at each tribe there was dancing, and a number of ceremonies. White fowls were waved as I have before described, slaughtered, and the blood mixed with kunyit, a yellow root, &c., &c., which delightful mixture was freely scattered over them and their goods by me, holding in my hand a dozen or two womenʼs necklaces. Captain Bethune has seen and can appreciate the Dyaks: to-morrow he leaves me, and most sorry shall I be to lose him. A better man or a better public servant is not to be found.
“Among my Dyak inquiries, I found out that the name of their god is Tuppa, and not Jovata, which they before gave me, and which they use, but do not acknowledge. Tuppa is the great god; eight other gods were in heaven; one fell or descended into Java—seven remained above; one of these is named Sakarra, who, with his companions and followers, is (or is in) the constellation of a cluster of stars, doubtless the Pleiades; and by the position of this constellation the Dyaks can judge good and bad fortune. If this cluster of stars be high in the heavens, success will attend the Dyak; when it sinks below the horizon, ill luck follows; fruit and crops will not ripen; war and famine are dreaded. Probably originally this was but a simple and natural division of the seasons, which has now become a gross superstition.
“The progress is ended; to-morrow I shall be left in the solitude and the quiet of the jungle: but, after witnessing the happiness, the plenty, the growing prosperity of the Dyak tribes, I can scarcely believe that I could devote my life to better purpose, and I dread that a removal might destroy what I have already done.
“We must now wait the decision of government with patience. Captain Bethune, in making his report, will have the advantage of real substantial personal knowledge. I esteem him highly, and regard him as a man of the most upright principles, who is not, and will not be swayed in his duty by any considerations whatever. I am glad we are to stand the ordeal of such a manʼs inquiry.”
[1] Leonard Gibbard made his first trip to sea under my charge in 1834, when I commanded the Childers in the Mediterranean, and at that early age gave promise of what he afterward proved himself to be—a gallant officer and thorough seaman. Poor fellow! he was always a general favorite wherever he went—H. K.
[2] Anglicè, run-a-muck.