Life in the forests of the Far East (vol. 2 of 2)

by Sir Spenser St. John

I will only mention another. A Chinese boy robbed his Chinese master of a large amount of goods, and carried them off to the house of the head Mahomedan priest, whose son he asked to secrete them for him. The boy was subsequently seized, but escaped punishment by turning Mahomedan, and the imám’s son was considered far too respectable to be punished, or even to be compelled to restore the goods.

When such cases are of common occurrence it is not to be expected that the city should be otherwise than in confusion, being without a government able or willing to do justice. It is only kept together by the sort of local self-government which obtains in all the kampongs or sections of the city, and by the strong feeling which unites all the branches of a family, and often prevents crimes from the fear of vengeance. I may here notice that Brunei is divided into kampongs (sections or parishes).

Ascending the river and entering the city, the first kampong on the left is called Pablat, and is the residence of some of the most sturdy of the inhabitants; they are the fishermen, who have their fixed nets on the banks of the rivers, and on the extensive sandbanks which stretch across the bay, inside Muara Island. Although they are constantly at work, they are not very enterprising, as they never place their nets in water deeper than two fathoms. Haji Saman, an intelligent man, but notorious for his piratical connections, once tried the experiment in five fathom waters, and his great success should have tempted others, but as yet they have not followed his example. Their nets are made of split bamboo, and are of various heights: the lower are fixed near the bank, and the longer are added on as they enter into deeper water, so that the summits are of uniform height. The fish ascending or descending the river, and meeting with this obstruction, follow it to the end, and enter a very simple trap, being simply open spaces with narrow passages leading into them; and their prolonged sides prevent the fish easily discovering the way out. As soon as it is low water, a basket which fits the bottom of the inner trap is raised, and the fish are put into baskets, and the men start for the capital in the fastest canoes I have almost ever seen, and never appear to draw breath till they have reached the town, eight to seventeen miles’ distance from their nets. Their wives and daughters are waiting their arrival, and immediately pull off to the floating market to dispose of the day’s capture. There is much rivalry as to the arrival of the first boat, as the profit realized is greater, and for that reason they will seldom stop to sell their fish during the transit. I imagine that it is on account of their being constantly in the water that their skins are so scurfy.

The next kampong is Perambat, from rambat, a casting-net, and constant practice has given these men wonderful proficiency, as standing on the bows of a small canoe, they will throw a net that has a spread of thirty feet, with such perfect accuracy that its outer edges fall in a circle on the water at the same time, and they thus catch a large amount of small fish and prawns.

Then follows a large parish, Membakut Pañgeran Mahomed, which contains the houses of many of the principal nobles, as well as the residence of the late sultan’s widow, all very tumble-down looking structures; but above them and at their back is a kampong of blacksmiths and kris-makers, called Pemproanan. Then follows Membakut, raised on firm ground, and here are a few Chinese and Kling houses, which have been raised since the fire of 1856, to which reference is made in a subsequent paragraph. Kampong Saudagar, or the merchant’s parish, derives its name, it is said, from a Portuguese trader from Makau having resided on that spot about sixty years ago, but is now the residence of two nobles, Maharajah Lela and Sura. Kampong Padaun, from daun, a leaf, employed in converting the leaf of the nipa palm into roofing mats; Pasir, rice cleaners, and makers of rice mortars; Sungei Kuyuk, wood-workers and prawn fishers, but more for themselves than the market; Pemriuk, workers in brass, from priuk, a brass cooking-pot; Menjaling and Pemukat, occupied by fishermen, as the names imply—jaling, a fishing-net, pukat, a kind of seine or drag-net. Burong Piñgé is the name of the last kampong on the left side in ascending, and is inhabited by the principal traders and wealthiest men in the town.

In ascending the river the first kampong on the right hand is called Terkoyong, from koyong, a shell; and its inhabitants were the principal collectors of the pearl oyster, which was at one time so plentiful near the entrance of the Brunei river. I may remark that when the collection was very paying, the heaps of shells which were thrown from the houses, after extracting the pearl, rose several feet above the level of the floor, although, originally the houses were built on posts in the water; now, however, they appear to have sunk in the soft mud, and are completely concealed by the deposits of the river; but the level of the bank is greatly raised. I have heard surprise expressed at the natives taking the trouble to bring home such cumbersome articles as heaps of shells, when the products they seek might be all contained in a small paper packet; they, however, not only seek the pearl, but eat its contents the oyster, and a Malay does not much care for bad smells. And this holds especially with the aborigines; they positively appear to have no olfactory sense at all. I have seen them collecting shell-fish on the beach which they intended to transport in their boats to their villages, perhaps fifty miles up a river, and in the warm tropical sun. The flesh by that time would be nearly decomposed, yet they appear to enjoy it the more keenly; in fact, any man who can eat with relish an egg, black with rottenness, can have little sense of smell. I think all the shell heaps which are found in these parts of the world may be accounted for in this way, though as the aborigines of Borneo keep pigs, no high shell heaps are raised, as these indefatigable routers spread them about in every direction.

Labuan Kapal, or the ship’s anchorage, is the next kampong, and opposite to the houses there is deep water up to the wharves, so that ships can load without boats. The inhabitants are much employed making the kejangs, or mats of the inner nipa leaf, used to cover boats, and make the walls of houses. Kampongs Jawatan Jeludin and Khatib Bakir, traders and blacksmiths. Peminiak, from miniak, oil, manufacturers of that article; and it is also the residence of the two viziers, pañgerans de gadong and pamancha. Kampongs Pañgeran Ajak, and Ujong Tajong, general traders; Sungei Kadayan, right-hand bank ascending, is the residence of the pañgeran tumanggong, and the orang kaya de gadong, and various other government officers; many of the people are employed casting brass guns, or are goldsmiths or general traders, and latterly their women have commenced the manufacture of expensive and handsome gold brocade. In this parish the heterodox haji Mahomed lived, and his mosque is situated; while on the opposite side of the little Kadayan river is the orthodox musjid, which, though built on firm ground, and of brick, is a mean-looking building. Then follows the palace, with its attendant houses, the bandhara and his people, and a kampong sometimes called Pasar, or the bazaar.

The remaining parishes are small, and consist of Tamui, Panchur Brasur, Kandang Batu or Prandang, Alañgan, Blanak and Tamasik, and are inhabited by traders, gardeners, and a few blacksmiths, with a small section called Pañgeran Daud’s kampong, who are entirely engaged in making mats. Some of these kampongs occasionally vary their names, particularly when they depend on those of the principal people who reside there.

I am afraid this is a dry enumeration, but it gives an idea of their mode of life, and the sort of corporations into which they are divided, and who support the cause of their individual members, whether right or wrong, and often take the part of a fugitive criminal who may cast himself at the feet of a chief man and ask his protection. Ten years ago a man committed a murder in Membakut Pañgeran Mahomed, and fled to the Burong Piñgé kampong, whose people refused to deliver him up; several times the two parishes mustered their forces, but never came to blows, particularly as they belonged to the same political parties. In 1859, after seven years escaping all traps, he fell into the hands of pañgeran Suleyman, whose follower he had murdered, and with the consent of the sultan he was immediately executed.

I was one day walking in the grounds near the consulate, when I was annoyed by a most offensive effluvia rising from a line of low trees which skirted the river’s bank. I found that some one had placed there the body of a young girl of thirteen. I reported the case to the sultan, and heard that two women had agreed to exchange slaves, a boy for a girl, but had not yet carried out the arrangement. The owner of the female slave noticing she was ailing, sent her to the owner of the boy, who refused to receive her in that state. The unfortunate child was bandied about between the two in an open canoe during a whole day, exposed to sun and rain, and at night a mat was thrown over her, and the canoe tied to the wharf of the owner of the boy. In the morning it was discovered she was dead, and her mistress, to save the trouble of burying her, threw her corpse where I found it. The woman was nominally fined—not for her cruelty, but for neglecting to inter it.