Baring-Gould Sabine
A History of Sarawak under Its Two White Rajahs 1839-1908
On June 6, 1856, the force, comprising a few Malays, and some 3000 Dayaks, started. To take the enemy by surprise the Tuan Muda decided to go up the Kalaka and march overland. Though the Malays of this river had suffered severely at the hands of the Kajulaus, they at first refused to accompany the expedition, regarding the difficulties as insuperable, and the danger as overwhelming. The result was that half the Malay force the Tuan Muda had brought with him were intimidated, and began to cry off; but Abang Aing restored their confidence, and shamed the Kalakas into accompanying the expedition. On the 14th, after having encountered great difficulties in passing the rapids, the force reached the Budu stream, and here the boats were left, but as there were enemies ahead and enemies to the right (the Saribas) a strong stockade was erected and garrisoned, to serve as a base and to guard the rear. Near this base were two long Dayak houses, and in one of them was staying a notorious Saribas Dayak chief named Saji. As the people were not declared enemies, though very doubtful friends, Saji could not be touched, but he remained a danger to be reckoned with, and against whom precautions had to be taken, for as soon as the expedition started overland he would be able to follow it with hundreds of men. But Saji was cautious. He preferred to wait to make his attack till the return of the expedition, when it would be easier to surprise, for, if not defeated, it would probably be disorganised. The march commenced on the 16th. The bala formed in three columns with the Malays in the centre, and at evening the tawaks (gongs) of the enemy could be heard in the distance sounding the alarm. But it was not until the 18th, after a tedious march over hilly land, that the verge of the enemy's country was reached. At 3 P.M. a sharp encounter took place, and the enemy were driven off, leaving a few dead on the field, and several long houses that had been abandoned in haste were entered and plundered. One of these houses the Tuan Muda occupied; and, finding that the enemy, taken by surprise, attempted no attack and offered no organised resistance, the force was divided up and despatched in different directions under their own leaders to burn and destroy.
Here an episode occurred which nearly proved disastrous. On the afternoon of the 19th, an attack was expected, and the house occupied by the Tuan Muda was greatly crowded with warriors to defend it. At 7 o'clock it was observed that the posts supporting the house were sloping considerably, and it was found that this had been caused by the Dayaks having stowed away in it overmuch of their heavy plunder, such as brass guns, jars, and gongs, and hundreds had gone up into the house, though by custom they ought to have remained without on the ground. A collapse would have meant the loss of many lives, and would have been taken advantage of by the watchful enemy. Upon the insistence of Abang Aing, the Tuan Muda left the house, and the Malays were directed to turn the Dayaks out instantly. But this was by no means easy to be done; indeed the Dayaks resisted being made to evacuate the house and leave their plunder there.
Whilst the Tuan Muda was sitting out in the moonlight, a sudden din and the sounds of strife arose from the house. Men came flying down the ladder, and others hurried up it. Then three Balau Dayak chiefs begged the Tuan Muda to go up immediately. Against the protests of Abang Aing, with sword and gun in hand, he ascended, and found Dayaks and Malays in a heated and dangerous condition, opposed to one another with drawn swords in their hands. Planting himself between the antagonists, the Tuan Muda ordered silence, and cocking his double-barrelled gun and placing the muzzle within two inches of the leading Dayak's head, he ordered him to leave the house. Amidst a dead silence the chief went, followed by the Tuan Muda, the Dayaks edging away and making a path for them along the verandah to the ladder. Thus ended the disturbance, and by the morrow it was forgotten. It was arrested just in time to prevent a desperate encounter between the Malays and Dayaks, which would have been taken up by the other Dayak factions – for in the bala were Dayaks of different tribes, only held together by the controlling influence of their white chief – and there would have been fighting among themselves. The enemy, taking advantage of this, would have fallen upon and routed them, and the survivors flying to regain the boats would have been cut off by Saji and his Saribas. The power of the Government among the Sea-Dayaks would have been broken completely, and it would have taken many years to recover it, a calamity which was averted by the bold and prompt action of the Tuan Muda, and his personal power over Malays and Dayaks alike.
On the 20th, the attacking parties returned after having destroyed twenty-five villages, and having secured an immense amount of plunder. There were but few killed on either side; the enemy had given way, cowed, and had offered but little resistance.
Thus was a severe lesson administered to the Sea-Dayaks, which they never forgot, and it showed them that they could and would be treated even as they had so long treated others with impunity.
"There is no way," wrote the Tuan Muda, "but burning them out of house and home – dreadful as this may appear. The women too must suffer, for they are the principal inciters of these bloody exploits.200 An attack on a Dayak force, the destruction of the whole of it, with the lives of the men, is no permanent advancement towards cessation of head-taking. But the burning down of a village, loss of goods, old relics, such as heads, arms, and jars,201 and putting the inhabitants, male and female, to excessive inconvenience – all this fills them with fear and makes them think of the consequences of taking the heads of strangers. These inland abodes have been and are everlasting fastnesses in their imagination. Besides, they always express very freely their opinion of white men; 'they are powerful, having arms and ships at sea, but it is only we Dayaks who can walk and fight on land and clamber steep mountains.'"
On the 21st, the march home was commenced, the leaders in the advance becoming now the rearmost. These were the most trusted and bravest chiefs; conspicuous among them was Pangiran Matali. Their instructions were positive – to keep a sharp look-out for the enemy, and to permit no one to lag behind. Most of the Dayaks were heavily laden with plunder, and the enemy was hovering about their track in the hope of cutting off the stragglers.
On the return to the stockade:
A delicious bathe, and some wine and water were the first things to have. Then a lounge in the boat in thin clothing, with that exhilarating feeling of lightness which one experiences after a Turkish bath. During my enjoyment in the satisfaction that our trials were well-nigh over, a rush was heard with tumultuous yells, and armed people were dashing back over the path by which we had come. I soon learnt that "Iron Anchor"202 and Pangiran Matali had been attacked in the rear, and within five minutes two Dayaks rushed to my boat carrying a head yet gory and dripping. The yells and cheers were deafening, and it was some time before I could get the particulars of what had happened. After the noise had somewhat subsided "Iron Anchor" and the Pangiran came to me and told me that as they were marching and bringing up the rear, about three miles off, a party of Dayaks came down the hill close to them. The Pangiran hailed and asked them who they were; the answer was, "We are of one bala (force)." Our party hailed again and then fired. Two of the strangers fell dead, the others took to flight. On Sandom203 following them up, he saw Saji with a large party fully armed for the purpose of making an onslaught on our rear. The Pangiran fortunately could recognize the Dayak tribes, and well knew their craft and different costumes. Our party escaped unhurt, and Saji, who had, I subsequently was told, vaunted that he would get forty of our heads, mine amongst the number, ran for his life, leaving two dead behind him.
In February, 1857, the Tuan Muda received the startling news that the Chinese had risen and fallen upon Kuching. He was told that the Rajah had been killed, along with Mr. Crookshank and many other Europeans. Before ten minutes had passed, Sekrang fort was crowded with armed men breathing vengeance, and within an hour, boats had been launched and the Tuan Muda with Abang Aing had started. Below Lingga next morning they met the vessel bearing the English refugees – the Bishop, his family, and others, and from them the Tuan Muda learnt the glad tidings of the Rajah's safety. Knowing that his force would be sufficient to crush the rebels and re-establish the Rajah's rule, he pushed on with his mind now more at ease. He arrived at Kuching to find the town in ruins, but the Rajah in charge again on board the Borneo Company's steamer Sir James Brooke. As a full account of the insurrection and of the subsequent events will be found in the following chapter, we will now return to the subject of this one to preserve a continuous record of the events that led to the downfall of Rentap.
On the afternoon of the Tuan Muda's return from Kuching, after an arduous time driving the Chinese rebels over the border, he received information that the notorious Saji was out with a head-hunting party along the coast. Prompt action was necessary, and the Tuan Muda by sunset had started in his war-boat, leaving Abang Aing and the Malays to follow. Whilst waiting inside the mouth of the Ludam, a little stream half-way between the mouths of the Batang Lupar and Saribas, for his Malay and Dayak contingents, a boat dashed past towards the Saribas. This the Tuan Muda subsequently learnt was Saji, who off Lingga had fallen in with a small boat containing a man, his wife, and their daughter. Feigning friendliness Saji approached, and when near enough attacked the little party. The man escaped by taking to the water, his wife was cut down and her head taken, and the girl was captured. When passing the Ludam Saji had noticed the Tuan Muda's boat-flag over the bank, the tide being high, and he sat with his drawn sword across the girl's throat prepared to take her life immediately if she attempted to call out, or should any notice be taken of them. On being joined by the Malays and the Balau Dayaks the coast was patrolled, and the Saribas was searched for some way up, but the head-hunters had retired.
Sadok, Rentap's stronghold, was regarded by the Dayaks as impregnable. Since the destruction of the stockaded village at Sungei Lang, he had strengthened his position there. In legend and song the Dayaks represented this place as a mountain so inaccessible, and so protected by magic, that no enemy would ever dare to assail it. Rentap had gathered about him all the disaffected Sekrang Dayaks and some of the Saribas of the interior, who offered him aid so long as he occupied this eyrie, which stood as an unapproachable nucleus and basis far removed from danger, and to which they might all retire in case of need from the rule of the white man, that thwarted their head-hunting and marauding propensities. Rentap was entitled the Inland Rajah, and was the centre of all opposition to the rule of the Rajah of Sarawak. His fortification was near 5000 feet above the sea, with precipitous approaches on almost every side.
The Tuan Muda had obtained permission to undertake another expedition against this stronghold. His intention was to pass over the mountain, lay waste the country at the head of the Saribas, and, after so cutting off Rentap's supplies and reinforcements, to attempt the chief's position on his return.
In the Saribas, which was still a hornet's nest, affairs were coming to a head. The Dayaks were about to retire into the interior with the Datu Patinggi of Saribas, who, together with the Laksamana, was encouraging the Dayaks to continue in their evil courses. But for the Malays, and even amongst them there were many inclined to a life of peace, though these were in a minority, the Dayaks of the lower Saribas would have submitted to the Government, and amongst the latter the Rajah could now count many adherents; but the power of the evilly disposed Malay chiefs, headed by the Patinggi, and of the Dayak chiefs, headed by Rentap, was dominant in the Saribas. To check them the Rajah took a large force to that river, and went at the time that the Tuan Muda was starting on his expedition, so as to disguise the object of the latter's preparations, by leading the people to suppose that his intention was to support the Rajah; and to be at hand to attack the Saribas Dayaks in rear should they muster in force to assist Rentap. The Tuan Besar at the same time went to the Rejang, to hold the Dayaks of that river in check.
The Tuan Muda took no Europeans with him, fearing that the fatigue of the difficult overland march might knock them up, and cause them to become encumbrances; his force consisted of 3500 Dayaks, and 500 Malays, all willing volunteers, though many conceived the task to be beyond their powers; but where he went they were ready to follow, confident that under his direction they would be well led.
The expedition started on June 2, 1857, a little over three months after the Chinese insurrection, and left Sekrang in drizzling rain; throughout it encountered miserable weather, which damped the ardour of the force. The Malays especially cannot endure wet, a few days' exposure brings on fever and ague, and the cold, to which the Dayaks would be exposed on the mountain, was likely to so numb them as to render them useless.
Old Sandom was once more the guide. He had his personal wrong to avenge, as we have already stated. "Iron Anchor" and Pangiran Matali were again the leaders.
On June 5, the boats were drawn up at Sungei Antu, on a little island of rubble and brushwood, upon which a stockade was erected, and where the flotilla was to be left. Forty men, well armed, were deputed to take charge of the boats and baggage in this extemporised fort, whilst the rest moved overland in the direction of the mountain. On the 7th of June, a height, the bold ridge on which the enemy had established himself, came in sight, with a succession of hills intervening like a chopping sea turned to rock. It was resolved to push on that day to Rapu, the northern termination of the mountain, and there to establish a stockade from which parties might descend and devastate the country of the hostile Saribas, on which Rentap had to depend for supplies. But it was not found possible to do in one day what was determined. The mountain was indeed reached, but ascended only by some of the advance party of Dayaks, who could not be restrained, and who scrambled up the side to the summit of the hogs-back, to be driven back with great loss, not of lives only, but of confidence and courage as well. The bulk of the force was constrained to bivouac in rain and cold on the mountain flank.
The last hundred yards were almost perpendicular, and when mounting I had to pull myself up with one hand by the stunted trees; added to this, there was a declivity of thousands of feet on each side. In ascending this part not more than twenty men were with me. My best fort-man was wounded by a spear, and to assist him many of the others had left me. And now I must give credit to the Lingga people, for they were close at hand. I was within about five yards of the enemy, who were pitching spears from behind some wood on the brow of the hill, while we were underneath, and the spears went flying over my head and struck some of our party in the rear. Here I stood propped up against a tree, and poured thirty rounds from my smooth bore as fast as I could load. After this I tried to ascend, but the Linggas literally collared me. The enemy were quieted, so here we sat on the side of this hill, at an angle of 80°, the whole night. A few cross sticks were placed for me to sit on. One man held a shield at my back.
When morning broke the Tuan Muda and his followers succeeded in reaching the summit of the mountain, and could look along the brow to the opposite end, where stood the stronghold of the redoubtable Rentap, to which the enemy had retired. Several of the attacking force had been killed or wounded on the previous day, and over a hundred had rolled down the steep sides, and in so doing lost arms and ammunition.
The "Iron Anchor" maintained his position manfully, and well merited his name.
On that day, June 8, the force proceeded to stockade the position gained at the Rapu end of the mountain, confronting that occupied by the fortress of Rentap, which was not above four hundred yards off. This latter was a formidable stockade of iron-wood, impervious to rifle shots, with precipices to the right and left; and the stockade was commanded by the high-placed houses inside, from which volleys could be poured on an attacking army, that must advance in a narrow file along the backbone of rock leading to it. Indeed, to assail the fort from the northern extremity seemed doomed to failure, the few men leading could be picked off and would roll down the declivities on this side or that, or encumber the path by which those behind were pressing on, and expose them also to be shot down, for the enemy possessed muskets, cannon, and also a swivel captured when Lee was killed.
During the eight days they remained on the hill it rained incessantly, and the force suffered severely from cold, finding little shelter in their leaking huts, the earth floors of which were soon converted into pools of mire. On the 9th, thinking that the force in advancing towards Rentap's fortification, had left its rear unguarded, a body of the enemy that had marched to Rentap's assistance made an attack on the camp, but they soon found out their mistake, and were easily beaten off. The next day a division of Dayaks and Malays proceeded against Rentap's allies, whom they drove back, and whose houses they plundered and burnt. On the following days other parties were sent out to do the enemy as much harm as possible, and to deter them from joining Rentap's party in the stockade, or harassing the main assailing force. In the meantime the Tuan Muda had attempted to get his men to storm the fortress at night, promising to lead the way himself; but they would not face the risk, though later on they consented to attack the place in force. Three days were spent in constructing portable screens of laths and bamboos, under the cover of which parties could progress along the dangerous ridge and make an attempt to set fire to the stockade. At mid-day on the 15th the attack commenced.
I took up my position with a rifle, and watched for movements among the enemy, but the active work I left to Aing, who, drawn sword in hand, superintended with much activity. The sounds were deafening, and the fellows carried the wood and materials under the fire of Rentap's guns. At 4 P.M. my party had attained to within six or seven yards from the outer fort, and the scene was truly exciting. Our enemies evidently were not numerous. They threw stones from the inside which fell on the heads of our fellows, and used muskets, together with a swivel. At half-past five our leader, crouching under the moving stockade, called for fire, and the wood collected was in considerable quantities. At this juncture Aing fell, wounded by a musket shot. Then evening set in, and we were obliged to return to our quarters. The enemy yelled in triumph at our departure.
The wood collected had been so saturated with rain that it refused to kindle.
As I lay down to rest at night, I gave up all thought of gaining Rentap's fortress, but resolved to see what could be done elsewhere. When I rose the last morning, the enemy was yelling, and my first desire was to get about a hundred of the strongest young fellows together, command myself, and proceed to Atui, where there were three long houses of enemies, about six hours' walk distant. This I promised to do in three days, when I would return here and march back with the whole force. I could obtain no volunteers; some said they were sick, others out of provisions, and I was obliged to bow to circumstances, and at eight o'clock our party began to descend the mountain.
The retreat was conducted without serious molestation by the enemy, but, on reaching Antu, it was found that owing to the rain a freshet had come down, the river rising twelve feet, and had swept the stockade away and carried off over seventy of the boats. The discouragement was great, and the return down the river was not effected without some annoyance from the enemy, who hid in the jungle and fired on the party as, in overcrowded boats, it descended the Sekrang. None were thus killed, but some were drowned.
Thus ended the first expedition against Sadok. It had done something, though no serious damage, but it exalted the confidence of Rentap in the impregnability of his stronghold. Practically it had been a failure, and so it was felt to be among Malays and Dayaks generally. The unrest in the country became more accentuated, and the daring of the Saribas increased.
In April, 1858, the Tuan Muda says:
I had for many months been tormented by the affairs in Saribas, which had been for generations the hotbed of head-hunters and piracy in every shape. The people were becoming more audacious, and I found it had been to no purpose holding communication with even the Malays, who, a few days ago, refused to receive a letter, and declared they intended shortly to ascend the river and live with the Dayaks, and eat pork as they did. It was evident that a crisis was approaching which would require resolute action, or our prestige would be injured in this quarter. This we could by no means afford to lose, as stoppage of all trade and communication on the coast would inevitably ensue.
A fleet of forty Saribas pirates' vessels was known to be ready to descend the river for a foray on the coast under Saji and another notorious Dayak chief, Lintong;204 and was only detained till the boat of the former was ready at Paku, forty miles from the mouth. No time was to be lost to prevent this force from reaching the sea, and the Tuan Muda sent to Kuching for aid. Meantime he manned his big boat with sixty men, and a 3-pounder was placed in her bows. Thus equipped, he sped to Lingga, where he fortunately found the small gunboat schooner, the Jolly Bachelor, commanded by John Channon.205 He now started up the Saribas river with a picked crew, and with numerous native boats following. The flotilla advanced as far as the mouth of the Padi river, on which was the village of Saji. Here they anchored, and a 6-pounder gun was pointed up the Saribas in case the enemy's forty war-boats should come down. Thence a party was detailed inland to attack Saji and his pestilent horde. This was done. The enemy was driven back with loss, and their houses destroyed. A more dreaded enemy than the Saribas now assailed the expedition, and that was cholera. In consternation the force began to break up and return home. The Tuan Muda resolved on constructing a fort and establishing a government on the river, and for that purpose retired down to Betong, a site he had selected as most suitable for a station.
Whilst engaged in collecting materials for the fort, the reinforcements from Kuching arrived under the charge of young Mr. J. B. Cruickshank,206 but too late to be of any use. The cholera prevented any further action being taken; but the time was usefully spent in completing the fort. Leaving Cruickshank in charge, the Tuan Muda returned to Sekrang, and while there heard that the Saribas were again in motion for a coast raid, their destination being unknown.
This was led by the redoubtable Linggir again. The Tuan Muda at once sent orders for the Balau Dayaks to muster and intercept the force. The order was promptly carried out, and Linggir's bala was defeated with a loss of fourteen men, Linggir himself having another very narrow escape. But other parties were out, and the Tuan Muda himself set forth for the Saribas to intercept some of these marauders. Here he was joined by Mr. Watson207 on his way to take charge of the new fort – a welcome addition for the reinforcement of that establishment.
The Tuan Muda warned the Malay villagers at the mouth of the Saribas, who were restless and desirous of encouraging the pirates, that they would be held responsible should any pirate boats be suffered to pass, and then returned to Sekrang to hasten preparations for an ascent of the Saribas river with a large body of men to chastise the turbulent natives who, led by Saji, had attacked Betong fort on July 14, 1858, and to press on and again try conclusions with Rentap.
After some delay the Kuching force started, and reached the rendezvous at the mouth of the Saribas river, but the Tuan Muda had been delayed, waiting for his Dayaks, and it proceeded to Betong. The leading division was a force from Kuching under the Tuan Besar, who commanded this expedition. It passed on several days before the Tuan Muda with the main force arrived at Betong fort, but was soon overtaken. The river was found to have been purposely obstructed. Large trees standing low on the banks had been felled so as to fall across, and, where narrow, block the stream. And this had been done for several miles. They were not formed into a boom, but left to lie where they fell. This is a favourite plan of the Dayaks for hindering the progress of an enemy up stream. Moreover, by cutting trees inclining to the river nearly through to the breaking point, and then sustaining them by means of rattans, they can in a moment sever these strings and let the trees fall on and crush the leading boats. Some thirty-five years ago, a Dutch gunboat whilst steaming up the Kapuas river was sunk in this manner, and her crew slaughtered.
Notwithstanding the obstructions, the flotilla advanced, and the enemy retired up stream. During five days' hard rowing, it progressed till it reached Pengirit, just below the Langit river, and here the vanguard fell in with the enemy under Saji. Saji gallantly attacked, and met the fate he so richly deserved. "Saji's name and acts had been in my ears for years past," wrote the Tuan Muda. "Many a bloody deed had been perpetrated, and he always had boasted that the White Men's powder and shot would take no effect on his body." So fell one of the most cruel and treacherous head-hunters of those days.
At the mouth of the Langit river a stockade was erected. Here on a clear night the moon was eclipsed. The Tuan Muda had seen by his almanack that this would occur, and had announced to the host that it would take place. If this had not been done a panic would have ensued, and the natives would have insisted on leaving; but as it was, they conceived that the phenomenon had been ordered by the white chief, to strike terror into the hearts of their foes, as also to encourage them; they were accordingly in good heart to advance.
They pushed on readily enough to Nanga Tiga,208 the junction of three rivers, one flowing from Sadok, one from the watershed where rises the Kanowit river, and the third the main Saribas. Here the boats were to be left, and a stout stockade was erected. Thence preparations were made to advance up-country towards the Rejang. The Tuan Muda, with whom went Cruickshank, was in command and led the van. Messrs. Steele and Fox209 were to take charge of the rear division. The whole party comprised 200 Malays and 2000 Dayaks.
From Nanga Tiga this party made for the head-waters of the Kajulau, to lay waste the territory of the troublesome natives there. It may seem, and it does seem at first sight, and to such as are not acquainted with native warfare, a barbarous process to burn villages and destroy the padi-fields with the crops on which the natives subsist. But, as already said, it is the only way in which these savages can be brought to submission. The women indeed suffer, but then they are the principal instigators of all the attacks on inoffensive tribes. They rather than the men were greedy after heads, and scoff at their husbands or sweethearts as milksops if they remain at home, and do not go forth to massacre and plunder. In fact, the destruction of their homes strikes the women to the heart, and turns them into advocates of peace. Among the Dayaks the women are a predominant power. The Dayaks are as woman-ridden and as henpecked as are Englishmen. Moreover, the destruction of native buildings is a more merciful proceeding than the slaying of a number of men in battle.
After the return of this ravaging party, which had done a circuit of thirty miles, a day was given to rest, and then the main body prepared to march to Sadok; and this time the expedition was furnished with a mortar that was expected to bring down Rentap's fortification. It was a six-pounder and only a few inches long, and was carried by Dayaks slung in a network of rattans.
Without opposition the host approached the fort of Sadok.
We met with no obstacles in mounting to the summit, which we reached at a little past ten in the morning. Rentap's party were within his wooden walls, and not a living being could be seen. Our force set to collect wood, and within an hour a small stockade was erected, in which our mortar was arranged; it was mounted within easy firing distance of the enemy's fortress, and, under the superintendence of Mr. John Channon, the firing commenced. The shells were thrown with great precision, often lodging under the roof of the enemy's fort; at other times bursting over it, and more than once, we heard them burst in the middle inside. Not a word was spoken by them, and some were under the impression that the place was deserted, when the tapping of the old gong would recommence as blithe as ever. Fifty rounds of shell were fired, besides hollow ones with full charges of powder, all of which appeared to take no more effect than if we were pitching pebbles at them. None of our party yet dared venture too near, but some of the most energetic pushed on to another stockade, within a few fathoms of the fort, when the enemy commenced firing, but the shot did not penetrate the wood. Our young Dayaks advanced, and two were immediately knocked over and others wounded. Other parties also advanced, and an active scene ensued; some reached the planking of the fortress, sheltering their heads with their shields, showers of stones were thrown from the inside, and spears were jabbed from a platform above. There was such a commotion for a few minutes, that I made certain our party were effecting an entrance, and, for the purpose of supporting them, I rushed out of our stockade, followed by a few, but had not passed on over more than four or five feet, before the enemy fired grape, wounding a fine young Dayak behind me, whom I had just time enough to save from falling down the precipice by seizing him by the hair, and passing him on to others behind the stockade. My brother and I advanced a few steps, but found our following was too inadequate for storming, and many were already retreating. Volleys of stones were flying round our heads, and as we retired again behind the stockade another charge of grape poured into the wood now at our backs. The chiefs had congregated to beg us to desist from making any further advance, and I must admit that we only risked our lives needlessly. The natives wisely observed, "We cannot pull these planks down with our hands, we cannot climb over them, and our arms make no impression on the enemy."
It was therefore resolved to abandon the attack. The retreat was begun at once, Rentap's followers shouting after the party the mocking words, 'Bring all your fire-guns from England, we are not afraid of you,' and discharging shot and spears and poisoned arrows. The enemy, yelling in triumph, threatened the assailants as they retired down the hill, but kept at a decent distance or hid behind cover for fear of the firearms.
