The native force was extensive; but I need only mention the names of those from Sarāwak. The three chiefs (the Tumangong and two Patingis, Gapoor and Ali) had two large boats, each carrying about 180 men. Then there was the rajahʼs large, heavy boat, with the rascally Borneons and about 40 men, and sundry other Sarāwak boats; and, beside, a Dyak force of about 400 men from the different tribes of Lundu, Sow, Singè, &c. Of course, it caused some trouble to collect this wild, undisciplined armament, and two or three successive points of rendezvous were necessary; and it was the morning of the 8th before we entered the river. Lieutenant Wilmot Horton was to command the expedition; with him, in the pinnace, were Mr. W. L. Partridge, mate; Dr. Simpson, assistant-surgeon; Mr. Hallowes, midshipman; 14 seamen, and 5 marines. In the first cutter was Mr. DʼAeth, Mr. Douglas, from Sarāwak, and Mr. Collins, the boatswain; in the second cutter, Mr. Elliott, the master, and Mr. Jenkins, midshipman. The Jolly Bachelor was commanded by Lieutenant Tottenham, and Mr. Comber, midshipman, with Mr. Brookeʼs medical friend, Dr. Treacher, and an amateur gentleman, Mr. Ruppel, from Sarāwak. The force from the Dido was about 80, officers and men. The command of the boats, when sent away from a man-of-war, is the perquisite of the first lieutenant. My curiosity, however, would not allow me to resist the temptation of attending the party in my gig; and I had my friend Mr. Brooke as a companion, who was likewise attended by a sampan and crew he had taken with him to Sarāwak from Singapore. His coxswain, Seboo, we shall all long remember: he was civil only to his master, and, I believe, brave while in his company. He was a stupid-looking and powerfully-built sort of savage, always praying, eating, smiling, or sleeping. When going into action, he always went down on his knees to pray, holding his loaded musket before him. He was, however, a curious character, and afforded us great amusement—took good care of himself and his master, but cared for no one else.
In the second gig was Lieutenant E. Gunnell, whose troublesome duty it was to preserve order throughout this extensive musketoe fleet, and to keep the natives from pressing too closely on the rear of our boats—an office which became less troublesome as we approached the scene of danger. The whole formed a novel, picturesque, and exciting scene; and it was curious to contemplate the different feelings that actuated the separate and distinct parties—the odd mixture of Europeans, Malays, and Dyaks, the different religions, and the eager and anxious manner in which all pressed forward. The novelty of the thing was quite sufficient to excite our Jacks, after having been cooped up so long on board ship, to say nothing of the chance of a broken head.
Of the Malays and Dyaks who accompanied us, some came from curiosity, some from attachment to Mr. Brooke, and many for plunder, but I think the majority to gratify revenge, as there were but few of the inhabitants on the north coast of Borneo who had not suffered more or less from the atrocities of the Sarebus and Sakarran pirates—either their houses burned, their relations murdered, or their wives and children captured and sold into slavery.
We did not get far up the river the first day, as the tope was very slow, and carried that most essential part of all expeditions, the commissariat. Patingi Ali, who had been sent the day before to await the force in the mouth of the Sarebus, fell in with five or six native boats, probably on the look-out for us, to which he gave chase, and captured one, the rest retreating up the river.
On the 9th June, 1843, we had got some thirty miles in the same direction; every thing was in order; and, as we advanced, I pulled from one end of my little fleet to the other, and felt much the same sort of pride as Sir William Parker must have experienced when leading seventy-five sail of British ships up the Yeang-tse Keang river into the very heart of the Celestial Empire. It rained hard; but we were well supplied with kajans, a mat admirably adapted to keep out the wet; and securely covered in, my gig had all the appearance of a native boat, especially as I had substituted paddles for oars. In this manner I frequently went a little in advance of the force; and on the 9th I came on a couple of boats, hauled close in under the jungle, apparently perfectly unconscious of my approach. I concluded them to be part of the small fleet of boats that had been chased, the previous day, in the mouth of the river; and when abreast of them, and within range, I fired from my rifle. The crews of each boat immediately precipitated themselves into the water, and escaped into the jungle. They were so closely covered in, that I did not see any one at first; but I found that my ball had passed through both sides of an iron kettle, in which they were boiling some rice. How astonished the cook must have been! On coming up, our Dyak followers dashed into the jungle in pursuit of the fugitives, but without success.
We moved on leisurely with the flood-tide, anchoring always on the ebb, by which means we managed to collect our stragglers and keep the force together. Toward the evening, by the incessant sound of distant gongs, we were aware that our approach was known, and that preparations were making to repel us. These noises were kept up all night; and we occasionally heard the distant report of ordnance, which was fired, of course, to intimidate us. During the day, several deserted boats were taken from the banks of the river and destroyed, some of them containing spears, shields, and ammunition, with a few fire-arms.
The place we brought up at for the night was called Boling; but here the river presented a troublesome and dangerous obstacle in what is called the bore, caused by the tide coming in with a tremendous rush, as if an immense wave of the sea had suddenly rolled up the stream, and, finding itself confined on either side, extended across, like a high bank of water, curling and breaking as it went, and, from the frightful velocity with which it passes up, carrying all before it. There are, however, certain bends of the river where the bore does not break across: it was now our business to look out for and gain these spots between the times of its activity. The natives hold them in great dread.
From Boling the river becomes less deep, and not safe for large boats; so that here we were obliged to leave our tope with the commissariat, and a sufficient force for her protection, as we had received information that thirteen piratical boats had been some time cruising outside, and were daily expected up the river on their return, when our unguarded tope would have made them an acceptable prize. In addition to this, we were now fairly in the enemyʼs country: and for all we knew, hundreds of canoes might have been hid in the jungle, ready to lanch. Just below Boling, the river branches off to the right and left; that to the left leading to another nest of pirates at Pakoo, who are (by land) in communication with those of Paddi, the place it was our intention to attack first.
Having provisioned our boats for six days, and provided a strong guard to remain with the tope, the native force not feeling themselves safe separated from the main body,—we started, a smaller and more select party than before, but, in my opinion, equally formidable, leaving about 150 men. This arrangement gave but little satisfaction to those left behind, our men not liking to exchange an expedition where a fight was certain, for a service in which it was doubtful, although their position was one of danger, being open to attack from three different parts of the river. Our party now consisted of the Didoʼs boats, the three Datus from Sarāwak, and some Sow Dyaks, eager for heads and plunder. We arrived at our first resting-place early in the afternoon, and took up a position in as good order as the small space would admit.
I secured my gig close to the bank, under the shade of a large tree, at some little distance from the fleet of boats; and, by myself, contemplated my novel position—in command of a mixed force of 500 men, some seventy miles up a river in the interior of Borneo; on the morrow about to carry all the horrors of war among a race of savage pirates, whose country no force had ever yet dared to invade, and who had been inflicting with impunity every sort of cruelty on all whom they encountered, for more than a century.