About twenty miles up the river was a landing-place on the right bank, leading to the Blait country, inhabited by Muruts, who have suffered heavily by the attacks of the Kayans.
Makota, the Malay noble so often mentioned in Keppel’s Voyage of the Dido, as the chief opponent of European influence in Borneo, and certainly the ablest and most unscrupulous man, and yet the most agreeable companion I have found among the Malays, told me how the Kayans had managed to obtain a village of Muruts in the Blait country. It had often been attacked, but, as a strong stockade had been built round it, they had defied the enemy.
One day, a fugitive party of three men and several women and children were seen flying from the jungle towards the Murut village. Some armed men went out to meet them, and they said that they had run away from the Kayans, and were now escaping pursuit. They proved to be Muruts of a distant river, who had been captured and held in slavery by the Kayans. The Blaits received them with hospitality, and offered them room in their long village houses that contained 150 families. The fugitives, however, said they preferred keeping their party together, and asked leave to build up a temporary hut against the inner side of the stockade. Permission was granted, and they lived there six months, working at a farm with their hosts.
One of these men, after the gathering in of the harvest, stayed out till sunset, and explained it by saying he had been hunting, and that the chase had led him farther than he intended. It was a dark night that followed; and, about four in the morning, a large party of Kayans crawled quietly up to the stockade, and found an entrance prepared for them. The posts had been removed by the stranger Muruts, who had gradually cut through the wood that formed the inner wall of their temporary shed. When sufficient were within the defences, a loud shout was raised, and fire applied to the leaf houses. The villagers rushed out to be cut down or captured. In the confusion and the darkness, however, the larger portion escaped, but left about a hundred and fifty bodies and captives in the hands of the Kayans; and I am not sorry to add, among the former were the three treacherous men who had caused this awful scene. Some of the attacking party not obtaining heads, quietly possessed themselves of those of their three allies.
Kum Lia planned and led this foray. I had some doubts of the truth of this circumstantially told story; and many years after, meeting Kum Lia in daily intercourse, I asked him about it. He was proud to acknowledge that he was the author of the able stratagem, but was not clear as to whether they had also slain their allies, but thought it very possible that his followers had done so.
At sunset we passed the island of Bakong, divided by narrow waters from the shore, and along the banks grass grew luxuriantly. We were struck by the appearance of dark objects; and, seeing them move, telescopes were pointed, and they proved to be a herd of Tambadau, or wild cattle, and at the edge of the jungle was a group of deer.
We anchored at the entrance of the Bakong stream, about thirty-five miles from the mouth of the Baram. During the night careful observations were made, and it was found that at the height of the flood the river rose only three feet, and the strength of the current averaged only one mile per hour.
Started before sunrise; the stream continues much the same. At first there were more open glades, with rich soft-looking grass like our English meadows; traces of wild cattle and deer were constantly to be observed. The river was seldom over four hundred yards in breadth, but never less than two; the soundings changed from three fathoms to no bottom with the usual line, but this great variation was caused by our not always being able to keep in the deepest part of the stream.
A glance at the map will show how very abrupt are the turnings, and how the stream doubles on itself, rendering it a very difficult matter to steer. Occasionally the current would catch the bow of the steamer, and force it on the shore; but immediately the stern felt the same force, it was pressed also towards the bank, and the stem again would point up stream. It was at last found the easiest and safest way to turn the sharp points.
To-day we steamed by several Malay trading prahus pulling up the stream, and observed one enormous Tapang tree that rose close to the water’s edge.