I heard a Spanish officer who was present give an account of the attack: three times the native troops charged, and three times they were driven back, till the Spanish officers and artillerymen put themselves in a body at the head of the force, and led the storming party, and, with severe loss, won the inner stockade. One of my Manilla followers on our present expedition was a captive at the time, and had concealed himself among the mangrove trees till the fighting was over. He said it was a fearful sight to see the slaughter which had occurred—one hundred and fifty of the Spanish force fell, and many more of the pirates, as they had commenced killing their women and children, till promised quarter.
I never saw a more savage set of fellows than those who escaped from this attack. The Sultan of Sulu had given them an asylum, and they were quartered near the spot at which ships usually water. It is about a mile from the capital, Sugh; is on the beach; and the clear spring bubbles up through the sand, where a pool is easily formed, at which the casks are filled, or whence the hose is led into the boats. The place is well marked by a tree, that, in the distance, looks like an oak: its trunk is of enormous thickness, but low, as the spreading branches stretch out from the stem about ten feet from the ground, but afford shelter to a considerable space, and under its shade a market is held several times a week. I measured its stem: it was above forty feet in circumference at a man’s height above the ground, and considerably more close to the earth, where the gnarled roots were included.
The Bajus of Mengkabong are, as I have said, a very lawless people, and the following anecdote, told me by Signor Cuarteron, will assist to prove it. He was anchored opposite his chapel in Lokporin, when he heard that there was fighting in Mengkabong, and, on inquiry, found that a boat, returning from Labuan to Cagayan Sulu, had put into that place for water, and was being attacked by the Bajus. He instantly manned his boats and pulled round to the salt-water lake. On arriving near the first village, he saw several hundred men assembled in prahus, round a detached house, near which a trading-boat was fastened, and guns were occasionally discharged. He inquired the reason, and the Bajus declared they were going to revenge the death or captivity of some of their countrymen who had disappeared a few months before, and whom, they had heard, people from Cagayan Sulu had attacked. It was immaterial to them whether these were the guilty parties or not, if they came from the same country. Signor Cuarteron then pulled up to the detached house, to find from its beleaguered inmates who they were. He soon discovered they were peaceful traders, not concerned in the outrage of the spring; upon which, by dint of threats and persuasion, he was enabled to rescue them from the Bajus, and escort them to the mouth of the Mengkabong—a very creditable action of the priest. The lawlessness of the Bajus is notorious, and they are now seldom employed, since the murder of some Chinese traders, who trusted them to form the crew of their boat.
Pañgeran Duroup, the nominal ruler of this place, always kept aloof from these things, as the Bajus despised any order he gave; in fact, their open defiance of his authority had induced him to remove from the town to a little island nearly facing the mouth, whose low land was formed of mud on a bed of water-worn pebbles.
A very barbarous custom exists on this coast—that wrecks and their crews belong to the chief of the district where they may suffer their misfortune. The Bajus used to give us much trouble on this account, though they would now assist the distressed, if they belonged to an English vessel, as they are well aware of our power to reward or punish.
As an instance of the above practice, I may relate an incident which took place whilst I was in Brunei. A large prahu sailing from Palawan to the Spanish settlement of Balabak was caught in a violent storm, and the captain noticed that his canoe, which, according to custom, he was towing behind, was rapidly filling with water; he therefore anchored, and ordered three men to get into and bail it out. The storm continued, and driving rain and mist rendered every object indistinct, when suddenly the towing rope parted, and the canoe drifted away. The three men, having no paddles, soon lost sight of their prahu, and continued driving before the wind.
The north-east monsoon was blowing, and the current sets down the coast, and, after a few days, this canoe was seen drifting towards the shore at Tutong, at least 150 miles from the spot where it had parted with its companion. The fishermen put off, and, on reaching the boat, found the three men lying in it, utterly exhausted from want of food and water, and from the daily and nightly exposure. They were sent on to the capital, and in a short time recovered, when they found they were considered as slaves of the Sultan.
In this emergency they came privately to my house and laid their case before me: so, in the evening, I went to the Sultan to hear the wonderful story from his own lips; and, when he had concluded, I congratulated him on the excellent opportunity he had of renewing friendly relations with the people of Palawan, by sending these men back in a prahu which was to sail for Maludu the following day. He hesitated at first, but after a little persuasion agreed to do so, and I had the satisfaction of seeing them safely out of the river. The Sultan did not regret sending them away; but he had been so accustomed to consider he had a right to these godsends, that he would certainly have kept them, had he not been asked to let them go.
I have noticed, in my account of our first expedition to Kina Balu, how mixed in breed were many of the Bajus with whom we conversed; but, although there is occasionally some Chinese blood found among them, yet it has rarely left a trace on their features. They appear to me to be very much like the Orang Laut, who frequent the small islands to the south of Singapore and about the Malay peninsula; they are generally, however, smaller, and their voices have a sharper intonation than that of the Malays.
I think, however, that the bold spirit shown by these men, their love of the seas, and their courage, might be turned to good account under a steady Government.