The women are fond of making vows, and to that practice I am indebted for my only glimpse of a Bornean harïm. During my first expedition to Molu, my boat snapped on a snag, and I was left to return through the jungle. The report spread that I was dead, and various vows were made; among others, the wives and daughters of some of the rajahs made a vow, if I returned in safety, I should visit them and be showered over with yellow rice for good luck’s sake. The pañgerans consented, thinking I was dead; but, on my safe return, the ladies insisted upon carrying out their vow; they were anxious to see a white man within their walls.
The nobles came and asked me; I at first declined, but, on being pressed, consented. The whole place was very paltry; about twenty middle-aged women were present, while a crowd of young girls, half hidden by a curtain, occupied the lower end of the room. On my displaying the most perfect indifference as to whether I saw them or not, they gradually emerged. I observed no pretty faces, and constant confinement to the house had rendered their skins of a very light yellow. I am afraid we were mutually disappointed, as the only remark I heard them make about me was, “How very dull his eyes are;” and so they were compared to their flashing black ones.
Full of faults as the Bornean rajahs doubtless are, oppressors of their subjects, and totally unfitted to rule, yet they are, in my opinion, the most agreeable natives I have ever met. As a companion, few Europeans could be more interesting than was the shabandar, the Makota of Keppel’s book, and “the serpent,” as he was popularly called. I never wearied of his society, and always enjoyed the little picnics to which he invited me. His death, which I have related in my Limbang Journal, was tragic, though he deserved his fate. They all display, in the most exciting discussions, a propriety of behaviour and gentleness of manner that wins those who have dealings with them. Procrastination is their greatest fault, and sometimes trying to the temper.
They are very tenacious of their dignity, and only the royal family can use yellow; and for a trader to fly streamers or flags from the mast-head is a great offence to the nobles. It used to be, and will probably be again after the present sultan’s death, a punishable offence for a person of inferior rank to pass the palace steps with his umbrella spread, or to sit in the after-part of a boat, that being the place for nobles. A man wearing yellow would be punished, while even the slave girls may dress in that colour. The distinctions of rank are kept up with great strictness, yet the sultan will talk to the people with perfect familiarity, but they always reply in a most respectful tone; though during the evening free conversation is encouraged.
The sultan and nobles deplore the decay of their country, but cannot, or rather will not, understand that it is their own unreflecting rapacity which destroys the springs of industry.
There are no fixed impositions, but the aborigines suffer from the exactions of all, until, they have told me that, in despair, they are planting yearly less and less, and trusting to the jungle for a subsistence. The price of uncleaned rice has risen four hundred per cent. during my experience of Brunei. This partly arises from the ravages of the Kayans, who have lessened the agricultural population, and greatly narrowed the area of cultivation; and partly, as I have observed, from the dependencies ceasing to yield so much to the nobles, they are compelled to depend more on the neighbouring tribes.
I have not yet mentioned the people who inhabit the hills which surround the capital; they are called Kadayans, and are evidently aborigines converted to Islamism. It is a tradition among them that they and the Perambat and Pablat sections of the city inhabited by the fishermen were formerly Muruts, and joined the Mahomedans about four hundred years ago. In digging near the consulate, I found a large jar, with the remains of bones and a skull, almost dissolved by time, very similar to the ones used for the same purpose by the Muruts of the present day. It is supposed by the Kadayans to have been buried there before their conversion.
As a rule, these hill-men are never oppressed; a few, however, who seem to have had claims over them, originating in debts due by their ancestors, were seized in April, 1861, by the widow of the late sultan, and put in irons until some demands of hers should be satisfied. The whole city was thrown into confusion by this proceeding; all the Kadayans assembled under their chiefs, stopped the supplies of food, and threatened an attack from the neighbouring hills; deputations of nobles waited on the lady, and begged her to let go the men, but she sturdily refused. For three days every man was prepared to defend his portion of the town; business was suspended, and fears and panics prevailed; till at last her relations gave way to the anger of the rest of the inhabitants, and insisted upon her letting her prisoners go.
The Kadayans have great influence in the city, on account of their agricultural pursuits; they supply large amounts of rice, and nearly all the fruit and vegetables. I have wandered over their districts, and never have I seen more lovely spots than are to be found at Upper Butil, Limapas, and in the interior of the Kadayan river. The groves of fruit-trees are immense, and no idea can be formed of them, unless we imagine our pear and apple trees of the size of the most gigantic elms. They are generally planted on the gentle slopes of low hills, and the cool and well-shaded paths among them are dry and pleasant to tread.
The Kadayans are devoted to the pañgeran tumanggong, and will not, I believe, consent to any other noble succeeding to the present sultan. They are not a warlike race, but they are united. In commercial affairs this may be especially noticed: a meeting of their chiefs takes place, they settle the price of rice, and none of their followers will swerve from it.