A royal smuggler

by William Dalton

These reports quickly wrought on the fears and ignorance of the people, and they heartily joined in the enterprise. The old woman distributed slips of palm-leaves to the laborers, with magic letters written upon them, as charms against wounds and sickness. When this strange affair was discovered by the native authorities, orders were given to desist from the work, and the inhabitants returned, without murmur, to their wonted occupations.

In no spot on the globe, perhaps, is there to be met such a various collection of the human race as in that lower town of Batavia, at which we arrived shortly after our adventure with the old gentleman of the buffalo skull—Hindoos, who, with the setting in of the westerly monsoons, come in shoals to seek their fortunes in a country richer by nature than the peninsula; shrewd, supple, unwarlike, mendacious, and avaricious Chinese—keen-witted, laborious, luxurious, yet sensual and pusillanimous, but whose intelligence and activity have placed in their hands the management of the public revenue in almost every country of the Archipelago—the end and object of their lives, after the accumulation of wealth, being to return to the Celestial Empire, to lay their bones in the tombs of their ancestors; natives of the other islands, Malays, Dutch, Spaniards, half-castes, and lastly Arabs—ambitious, intriguing, and bigoted, but who possess a strength of character which places them far above the simple natives of the Indian islands, to whom, in matters of religion, they dictate with that arrogance with which the meanest of the countrymen of Mahomed consider they are entitled to conduct themselves; but withal, Arabs, when not devoted to spiritual concerns, and occupied in mercantile affairs, have the reputation of being fair and adventurous merchants.

Now, upon ordinary days, during business hours, there is ever much bustle and traffic in the lower town. Upon that day, however, the streets were crowded as you only see streets crowded in Asiatic cities, but then it was with merry-makers, idlers, pleasure-seekers; for, as I have said, it was a holiday among the Asiatics—business seemed suspended; Europeans, except those who had come as spectators, were scarce. So far this suited our purpose, for we should have less chance of meeting any friends of Ebberfeld; but, upon the other hand, it was a great chance if we should find our friend, the merchant, in town, and if not, we should have to seek a lodging in some native hut. Still, we resolved to go to his warehouse, which was situated on the bank of the canal, which runs between the town and the sea.

Making our way through the crowds of people, we could not but be amused. The men and women seemed to be divided into groups—some, chiefly old men, flying kites shaped like wild animals, the game being to pit them against each other, the conqueror being he who could bring down his adversary’s kite; some gazing at itinerant jugglers, snake-charmers, dancing-girls, or actors; another deeply interested in a cock-fight—a less cruel game with the Javanese than that which used to disgrace America in our grandsires’ days, for the birds have but their natural spurs; another group would be gazing at a fight between two quails; another deeply interested in a combat between two crickets, the little animals being excited to battle by the titillation of a blade of grass applied to their noses; then others, and those groups were numerous, sitting down gambling with dice.

So extravagant is the passion for gaming among the Javanese, that it pervades all orders, from the prince to the peasant. The common laborers no sooner receive their hard-earned money, than they form a ring in the public street or highway, sit down deliberately, and squander it all away. On a market-day, in every part of the country where open gaming is not absolutely prohibited, men and women, old and young, form themselves into groups in the streets of the market for the purposes of play, and the attention of the stranger is soon attracted to these crowds by the tumultuary and anxious vociferation of the players.

But there can be no more striking illustration than the artifice resorted to by the proprietors of treasure, or other valuable property, to protect it at night from the depredation of thieves, when it is transported from one part of the country to another. The only antidote to the supine carelessness and somnolency of the Javanese is play, and the proprietor of the property, therefore, furnishes the party with a sum to gamble for, which insures a degree of vigilance which no inducement of fear, duty, or reward could command.

Among the Malays and people of Celebes, the influence of play is still more violent. After losing their money, they stake their jewels, their side-arms, their slaves, and, it is often alleged, even their wives and children, or, in the last extremity, their own personal freedom. With these tribes, the disputes which arise at the gaming-table are often terminated by the dagger, or generate incurable feuds between families.

We had found our way through the crowd, and had reached the comparatively deserted bank of the canal, when our attention was called to a noisy group of some fourteen or fifteen persons squatting in a ring. Approaching nearer, we could see these by-sitters were watching two men, who sat in the middle throwing dice. One of the gamblers—and who, from the satisfactory smile upon his countenance, seemed to be the winner—was a Chinese; the other a powerful-chested, strong-limbed man, whose deep-brown skin, round face, square chin, and long, lank, harsh, dark hair, bespoke him a native of Bali. I watched him narrowly for some few minutes, and from his vociferation at every reverse fall of the dice, and his exclamations in bad Dutch and Javanese, I judged him to be a sailor, belonging to one of the merchant ships in the harbor. Well, from what I could gather from the other spectators, the sailor had been winning before we had come up, notwithstanding the smiling face of the Chinese; but be that as it may, it was certain that he was losing now, for as the dice fell, no matter by whom thrown, the Celestial swept away the money staked. But the sympathies of the lookers-on seemed to be with him, for at every loss they goaded him to try his fortune again, till at length he had no money left, and, with a wild yell, he leaped to his feet.

“Thy creese, Kati! stake thy creese—it will turn thy luck,” cried a Javanese; and for a moment the sailor stood as if in a state of indecision, for the weapon is sacred in the eye of an Indian islander. Then, however, kissing its hilt, as if taking an affectionate leave of the weapon, he threw it upon the ground. The Chinese placed a little pile of silver against it, and again the dice were thrown, and again with ill-luck; and now the reckless wretch had lost his all, and so furious was the expression of his eyes, that I instinctively moved aside, expecting to see him snatch up the weapon and run a “muck” among us. But no, remembering that he had not lost quite all, he said, “Dog of a Chinese! I am a free man; I have still my liberty; and that I will stake against my beautiful creese;” by which he meant that, should he lose the next throw, he would become the slave of the Chinese.

The Celestial coolly bowed his assent to the proposal; but before either could again take up the dice, a man, forcing his way through the by-squatters, and seizing the sailor by the arm, said, sternly,—