Many months before starting, I was told that if I wished to penetrate far into the interior, to try the Trusan, and not the Limbang, as the former was inhabited, the latter not. I went up the Trusan a few miles, but found it so small, I had no idea it penetrated to so great a distance. The fact is, that the rains run off very fast, and that the ordinary states of the rivers give no idea of the amount of water they bring down, but had we taken that route, we should have reached our farthest point with comparatively little fatigue.
The Orang Kaya Upit arrived at his house November 13th, twenty-five days after I reached Brunei; so that it is fortunate I did not wait for him. I may add, that on November 20th, some Bisaya chiefs set upon pañgeran Makota, the shabandar, and killed him. They were wearied with his exactions. The immediate cause of his death was seizing the daughters of seven Orang Kayas, one of whom he had in his curtains when attacked, and this caused his death. The girl pointed him out to her father, trying to escape in a small canoe. The alarm was given, and his boat tilting over while he tried to avoid the shower of spears and stones, he fell into the stream and was drowned; for he was the only Malay I ever heard of who could not swim. Such was the end of this clever bad man. The Sultan was furious, but his fury was not shared by his four viziers; so that the affair ended by a dozen lives being taken, instead of the hundreds the Sultan desired.
Brunei, February 8th, 1861.—Above two years have passed since I wrote this journal. The scheme of building a fort at the Madalam mouth did not succeed, as the Sultan, after the shabandar’s death, was very unwilling to assist any of the aborigines. I was away during the year 1860, and in the course of that time, a party of the Muruts, from the upper Trusan, came over and encamped at the mouth of the Salindong stream, and from thence sent on three men in a bark canoe to tell their friends of their presence. These men met the Orang Kaya Gomba, a Bisayan, at Batang Parak, and were treacherously slain by him. The Muruts waited a long time at Salindong, hoping to be fetched away by their friends. They could not walk the whole distance, as they had their women and children and all their worldly goods with them, intending to remove to the lower Limbang, and live with the Orang Kaya Upit.
While thus detained, they were surprised by a large party of Kayans, and every one taken or slain. However, one of the prisoners afterwards managed to get away, and reached his friends, bringing this sad tale. The Orang Kaya Gomba declares that he mistook the three for Kayans, which is almost impossible, as no head-hunter would have been found paddling down a hostile stream in a bark canoe. Neither the Sultan nor any of the viziers will make the least inquiry into this affair, but the memory of it is treasured up in the hearts of the Muruts, and Orang Kaya Gomba may yet meet with a bloody death.
I have remarked that during all our wanderings near Kina Balu we only at one place found the dried heads of enemies hung up in the villages there, and during my journeys up the Limbang, I do not remember noticing any, and yet Orang Kaya Gomba’s murderous action shows they do value them, which is confirmed by pañgeran mumin making a present of the head of the man he killed to the Gadang Muruts; and during my stay in Brunei, I have met small parties of head-hunters, but seeking only the heads of their real enemies. Yet I have always avoided spending a night in their immediate neighbourhood, and have kept our arms ready for instant service.
One evening, during a heavy squall, we took shelter in a little river to the south of Point Kitam, in the Limbang Bay, and to our exceeding discomfort found a Murut boat with eighteen armed men in ambush round a short turn of the stream; we knew they were not waiting for us, but having only four men, and a couple of fowling-pieces, we did not feel secure in their neighbourhood. As we rowed past them they took no notice of us, but no sooner had we anchored, than they pulled off towards our boat; but we should have felt little discomfort, had they not had their mat coverings stowed away, while all the Muruts had their arms ready for action. I told my men to show no sign of alarm, but keeping our guns within reach, waited their coming.
It was a great relief to find that they only came to ask for a little tobacco, but some of us had been accustomed to the neighbourhood of the Seribas and Sakarang Dayaks, who on head-hunting expeditions spare none, if of a weaker party. We found they were on the look-out for some of the Tabuns, who, flying before the Kayans, had established themselves at Batu Miris, near the entrance of the Limbang river, and with whom they had an ancient feud. To show the apathy of the Bornean Government, I may mention that it permitted these skirmishes to take place close to the capital, and one day some of my men who were cutting wood near the Consulate, were startled by seeing two Tabuns rushing frantically past them; in a few minutes five Trusan Muruts appeared in full chase, and eagerly inquiring the direction taken by the fugitives, hurried at full speed on a false track purposely pointed out by my Manilla men.
Another fact I may mention is that many Bisaya labourers who go over to our colony of Labuan to seek for work have actually attempted to disinter the bodies of those of our countrymen and women who have been buried there. They have tried this to the great grief and discomfort of their surviving friends, but the Bisayas have generally, if not always, been disappointed by the great depth of the graves, and their inefficient tools. It appears a disgusting thing that there should be any necessity to watch over the graves of one’s friends to prevent them being desecrated.
I shall have occasion hereafter to mention the Secret Societies established by the Chinese, but as an illustration of the influence the members exercise over each other, I will tell the following story:—Perhaps those who have read my journeys to Kina Balu, and this Limbang journal, may be interested in the fate of my boy Ahtan, and I am sorry to say his conduct ultimately made me lose all interest in him. In the year 1858 the Chinese in Brunei started a Secret Society, called there a Hué; they said they were a branch of the Tienti, or Heaven and Earth Society, that has ramifications in nearly all the countries in which the Chinese have spread. At first but few joined it, but by threats and cajolery they at last induced nearly all but the head traders to enter it, and on one of the great Chinese religious feasts, Ahtan asked my permission to go to it.