Observing that Sir James Brooke, who had lately suffered much from fever, looked hot and tired, the sultan politely broke up the audience, and we returned by the same path we came, and after sitting a short time with Mr. Wyndham, went on board to dine with Captain Keppel, where our Sulu acquaintance amused us with stories about the natives.
Went on shore to Mr. Wyndham’s to meet datu Daniel; very little conversation passed. He appears to be a quiet, good-natured man; his brothers are very fine fellows, and very fair; with them we went to see the race-course. Passing through a portion of the town, we came to an open grassy field, where a few men were trying their horses by trotting them over the sward. None of the chiefs being present, there were no trials of speed.
2nd.—On shore early with our guide, but the people not appearing to like our penetrating into the country, we returned to Mr. Wyndham’s house, and as we passed the stockades, the Sulus laughingly pointed to some indentations in the wood where the shot from the Dutch ships had struck, but had done little damage.
3rd.—Weighed anchor and stood along the coast for Tulyan Bay; but wind and tide being against us, we let go our anchor; sailing again at three, we found ourselves towards seven in Tulyan Bay, much to the discomfort of the villagers, whose shouts and screams could be distinctly heard on board. At last a couple of men came off and returned on shore after a few reassuring words from Mr. Wyndham, which appeared sufficient to pacify the inhabitants, as the noises ceased. Tulyan Bay is rather deep, and appears to be well protected, and takes its name from a pretty-looking island in the offing, which was ceded to the English in Dalrymple’s time—in fact, the inhabitants thought we were come to take possession.
4th.—I must now endeavour to give the little information I collected concerning Sulu. The government is carried on by a sultan, with his council of datus; at the present time the principal power is held by datu Molok, an elder but illegitimate brother of the sultan—a shrewd-looking man with quick, inquiring eyes. The sultan is said to be well-intentioned; but, being weak in character, is totally unable to subdue the turbulent aristocracy by whom he is surrounded. In despair he is reported to give way to his fondness for opium-smoking.
The laws are but little respected, and ancient customs are fast falling into disuse, particularly one resembling a voluntary poor-rate. Every Sulu trader used to present five per cent. of his yearly profits to a fund, which was divided among the poor of the island. The mountaineers acknowledge the supremacy of the sultan, but refuse to pay tribute, and a government which cannot enforce that is not likely to be able to suppress feuds, or effectually to put down disturbances. Mr. Wyndham pointed out a man who was notorious as a murderer, and one instance he had himself witnessed of his bloodthirstiness.
Again, two mountaineers, bargaining for a slice of fish, quarrelled; they mutually seized each other’s weapons; one held the handle of his opponent’s kris, the other his spear shaft; they struggled, a fight ensued, the crowd collected, some took one side, some the other, and in a few minutes seven men lay gasping on the ground. It is not to be expected that the dependencies of the island will obey, when all is in such confusion. The sultan’s power is very limited, though the datus still send parties to raise contributions from the neighbouring towns, villages, and islands. In all decaying states we find religion neglected, and here, I imagine, it is held but in slight respect; their houses of prayer being like a tumble-down barn, and the inhabitants indulging in the use of wine, and occasionally pork.
Mr. Wyndham told us an amusing story of an old datu, who, going on business to a Chinese trader, began to find a delicious odour insinuatingly creeping over his senses.
“Ah,” said he, “what is this? some cooking, what is it?”
“Pork.”