Radan Patah, through the influence of his brother, was permitted to settle in the district of Damak; his conduct, however, creating some suspicion at court, his brother paid him a visit, and prevailed upon him to make his appearance there, and pay the accustomed homage; in consequence of which the king not only pardoned him, but created him Adapali, or governor of Damak.
But no sooner did the new governor return to the seat of his government than he began to intrigue for the subversion of the national worship; and, having at length succeeded in mustering a considerable force, he gave the command to a Javanese. This general, meeting the army of the king under Radan Husen, was defeated and slain. Radan Patah, however, not discouraged by this defeat, assembled a fresh army, and gave the command to Kudus, a son of the slain commander. The Hindoos and Mahomedans again met, the result being the defeat of the former, the capture and destruction of the ancient city of Mojopahit, and the ultimate triumph of Mahomedanism, which is well ascertained to have happened in the year 1478.
“It may be remarked,” says Crawford, “as a singular coincidence, that the Mahomedan religion was extending itself thus in Asia at the very time it was expelled from Europe; and it is curious to observe, that this important revolution was going forward nearly at the same moment with the grandest events in the history of man. Mojopahit was destroyed but fourteen years before the discovery of America, and but nine before Vasca di Gama doubled the Cape. It was a moment, indeed, when the nations of the world were becoming better acquainted with each other. The European reader, in reflecting upon this subject, will feel regret that the intolerant religion of Mahomed should have anticipated the religion and civilization of a more polished and improved portion of mankind; but that regret will be moderated when he considers the bigotry and cruelty of the Portuguese, the first adventurers, and the mean, pitiful, and cruel policy of their mercantile successors, the Dutch.”
CHAPTER XXV.
THROUGH WOODS AND WILDS.
Onward, onward, for days, weeks; nay, more than two months we traveled through forests so dense, that without immense toil and a cunning guide they would have been impassable. Gigantic teak trees, thickets of colossal ferns, bamboos, rattans, the wild laurel, gum-trees—across rivers and perilous rapids, through valleys rendered deadly to man from the neighborhood of those solfataros or semi-extinct volcanoes which, from the fume of carbonic acid gas escaping, asphyxiate all living creatures who dare to rest within its influence. Along the ridges of that immense volcanic range, named by travelers the blue mountains, and whose crests soar to a height of nine thousand feet above the level of the sea—by day seeking our food from the wild pigs, deer, and pheasants, which ever and anon crossed our path; by night two of us sleeping, within a circle of fire, lighted partly to preserve us from the pestiferous damps, or prowling tigers, and fed with fuel by the other two, who kept watch and ward.
The journey was indeed painful, wearisome. Would it ever come to an end?—But another day and—hurrah! our hearts beat with joy, such a joy I had never felt. We had at length reached the neighborhood of human habitations—the land of man was visible around. We had entered a vast valley shut in by wooded hills, and moistened by pleasant brooks and rivers, the sides of which for miles were studded with trees in groves. We had in fact come to a sago plantation, and thus knew that a village or town must be at hand—a few miles more along the banks of the widest of the streams, and we had reached a little village of huts, which we afterwards found formed a kind of outpost to the city of Marang itself. Speedily our toils were forgotten in the warm hospitality of the natives, who regaled us with their choicest fruits, coffee, and sago cakes, and, greatest luxury of all, after so long a sojourn in the wilds, sleeping-mats and pillows, to say nothing of a separate hut, which the head-man of the village, who constituted himself our host, had placed at our disposal.
Now, as I have told you, it is the custom in Java for the women to do all the field work; accordingly, they quit their huts at a very early hour of the day. But the morning after reaching the village, when we left our sleeping-hut, we were surprised to see both women and men idling about, and tricked out in their best finery.
“What is the meaning of all this, is it a jollification day, I wonder?” asked Martin of Prabu; but the latter, as if no less surprised, addressing the head-man, our host, asked,—
“What day is this, oh my brother?”
“Can my elder brother have suddenly fallen from the moon, that he knows not that this is the twelfth of the month of Rabbi ul awal?”[D]