Part 5 (1/2)

love of their English Rajah made that only an idle threat. We were told that Mrs. Crookshank was dead, and the little Middletons, as well as Mr.

Wellington, who lodged in their house, and Mr. Nicholetts, who was staying at the Rajah's house. Mrs. Crookshank, however, was not dead, but lying wounded in a ditch near the ashes of her house. When the Bishop knew this he demanded her of the kunsi. They said no, at first, for they were angry that her husband had escaped; but Bishop refused to attend to the wounded unless they gave her up, so at last they gave leave to have her carried to our house.

It was about ten o'clock when she was brought in--a pitiful sight, her dress covered with blood, her hair matted with gra.s.s and dust, her fingers bleeding. It did not seem possible she could live after remaining all night in this dreadful state. She told us that she and her husband did not awake until the house was full of men. They had only time to jump up and run down their bath-room stairs, he catching up a spear for their defence. Opening the bath-room door it creaked, and a man came running round the house shouting, ”a.s.sie Moy,” the name of the woman-prisoner they had seized. He struck down Mrs. Crookshank with a sword he had in his hand, and Mr. Crookshank attacked him with the spear. They struggled together till the Chinaman cut his right arm to the bone, and the spear fell from his hand; then, seeing his wife lying dead, as he thought, in the gra.s.s, he managed to get away to the edge of the jungle, and sitting down, faint with loss of blood, saw his house burn to the ground. As morning dawned he found his way to the Datu Bandar's house, where the Rajah had already arrived, and Middleton.

Meanwhile the Chinese, chasing the fowls from the burning fowl-house, came upon Mrs. Crookshank lying on her face, and one of them, seizing her by her hair, desired her to follow him. She could not walk a step, so he carried her in his arms; but when she groaned with the pain, he laid her in a ditch near the road. Many Chinese came and stood by her: they covered her with their jackets, one held an umbrella over her head, another offered her some tobacco, but they would not let any of our people touch her until an order came from the kunsi. We had sent our eldest school-boy to rea.s.sure her, and he stood beside her until our servants could bring her away safely. As soon as the Bishop had dressed the wounded in the town, he came home for some breakfast. When I saw him I called out, for his pith hat was covered with blood. ”It is only fowl's blood,” said he, ”don't be frightened: they killed a chicken over my head as a sign of friend s.h.i.+p.” The Middletons' servants came to us early in the morning, and said that they did not know what had become of their mistress, but the two little boys were killed by the Chinese, their heads cut off, and their bodies thrown into the burning. Later on, we heard that Mrs. Middleton, after seeing Mr. Wellington killed in trying to defend her, had escaped into the bath-room and hidden herself in one of the big water-jars; but, the door being open, she had seen her children murdered, and then had got out of the jar and run into the jungle, where she concealed herself in a little pool of water, much hidden by overhanging boughs. There this poor mother remained for some hours, until a Chinaman from the town came to the spring, carrying a drawn sword in his hand. ”Oh, sir, pray don't kill me!” she called out.

”Oh no!” answered the man, ”I am a friend of Mr. Peter” (her husband), ”and will take care of you.” So he took her to his house, and dressed her in Chinese clothes. It was almost a wonder to me that this poor young woman lived through that dreadful time. As the day wore on, Mr.

Ruppell, the banker of the place, and a great friend of the Chinese, came and took up his abode with us. Then he, the Bishop, and Mr. Helms, the manager of the English Merchant Company, were ordered to meet the kunsi at the court-house; also the Datu Bandar, the chief Malay magistrate. There a very trying scene took place. The kunsi sat in the seats of the magistrates, smoking, their princ.i.p.al in the Rajah's own chair. They stated that they did not wish to make war with the English, or the Malays, only with the Rajah's government, and they desired those present to a.s.sist them in the government of the country. This they had drawn up in writing, and desired the English and Datu Bandar to sign.

The Bishop pointed out to them that the best thing they could do would be to return to Bau and defend their town; that the Dyaks would certainly come in fleets of boats directly they heard of what had happened at Kuching, and they would as certainly be killed if they remained in the place. This was true enough, but they were afraid of the Malays attacking them on the water. The Chinese are bad boatmen. They could not therefore make up their minds to go, and much fierce discussion arose. The thieves and rogues of the place, being under no restraint, robbed all the houses, on this afternoon, whose inmates had taken refuge at the mission-house. The Christian Chinese, being afraid of their countrymen, rushed into our house, carrying all sorts of goods and chattels, and caused me much distress on Mrs. Crookshank's account, who was very sensitive to fresh alarms. However, we settled our Chinese friends in some of the lower rooms. The Channons and their babies were in the attics. Night came at last, and a dead silence fell upon the town and the crowded mission-house. Not even the usual sounds in the bazaar or on the river were heard; only an occasional gun broke the stillness of the night. Friends and foes were alike weary. We did not venture to undress, but lay down all ready for flight if necessary, with our hats and little bundles beside us. The Bishop and Mr. Ruppell watched all night in the porch. Friday morning the Chinese, continually urged by the Bishop, determined to return to Bau. Later on they heard a rumour that the Malays would attack them on the river; then they made the Datu Bandar sign a promise not to follow them. Still they felt no confidence that he would not, so they said they would take Mr. Helms with them as a hostage for the Datu's good faith. Poor Mr. Helms did not like this idea at all, and having a fast boat lying in the creek near his house, he slipped away early in the afternoon, down the river, and hid himself in the jungle. No one in Sarawak could imagine what had become of him.

About midday the Bishop told me he wished me, Miss Woolley, and the children, including Alan Grant, to go to Singapore in a trading schooner which Mr. Ruppell had detained at the mouth of the river in case of emergency.

Mrs. Stahl and Miss Coomes were to remain and nurse Mrs. Crookshank, but it would be a great relief to him to think of us in safety. The Chinese kunsi also wished us to go, ”that the people at Singapore might see that they did not desire our death.” It seemed very hard to me to leave my husband in such danger, for that morning the kunsi had flourished swords in his face and threatened him, knowing very well that he wished to bring the Rajah back. Still I knew he could more easily provide for the safety of those left behind if we were already out of the way. So I packed up some clothes and provisions for the voyage. While I was doing this a Chinaman came from the _Good Luck_ schooner to say I must only take one box for our party, as the schooner was very full of Chinese pa.s.sengers, fleeing for fear of the kunsi. With this we had to be content. At three o'clock we went to the shop of Amoo, the Chinese owner of the _Good Luck_. There I found my husband writing to Mr. Johnson at Linga, to tell him what had happened. Then Datu Bandar came in to say that the kunsi had gone up the river, and had taken some of the fort guns with them; that they were very crowded in the boats, and that he should follow after them with a Malay force at night. They did nothing, however, when the time came; for until the Malays had got their families safe out of the place they were not willing to fight. They were brave enough when the women and children were moved to Samarahan on Sat.u.r.day.

There were many Chinese women collected at Amoo's, belonging to the shopkeepers in the bazaar. The wife of the court scribe, whom I knew, told me in a whisper that she managed to get some bread to the Rajah and his party, and had told Mr. Crookshank that his wife was alive and with us. At last the life-boat was ready. Stahl went with us to steer, and said there were plenty of Chinese to row the boat. When we got down to it, we found it not only fully manned by Chinese, but full of their women, children, and boxes, so that we could scarcely find room to squeeze ourselves into the stern, and we were so heavily laden that we made very slow progress. It was no use protesting, however: we were only English folk, and the Chinese had it all their own way in those days.

About eight o'clock we got down to the mouth of the Morotabas, where the schooner lay. Pitch dark and very wet it was, but it was a relief when all the Chinese pa.s.sengers climbed up the schooner ladder, and the men hauled the boxes up one after another, last of all a very heavy one which it took six men to lift, full of dollars,--so no wonder we were overladen. Last of all I climbed into the _Good Luck_, leaving the children still in the boat with Stahl and Kimchack, one of our school-boys whose family were moving away in the schooner. I found the deck covered with Chinese, and when I said to the little Portuguese captain, ”Where is the little cabin Mr. Ruppell promised me I should have?” he answered, ”Oh, ma'am, pray go back to your boat. I have neither water nor fuel for the people who are already on board. The cabin is filled with the family and friends of the Chinese owner of the schooner, and I cannot give you even room to sit down anywhere.” It was indeed true. My friend, the court scribe's wife, said, ”Come and sit by me on the deck.” ”But the children, they cannot be exposed day and night on deck.” ”Oh well, there is no other place for them.” So I jumped into the life-boat again, and reclaimed my treasures. ”Rather,” said Miss Woolley and I, ”die on sh.o.r.e than in that horrid boat.” Indeed we felt quite cheerful now we had the boat to ourselves; and Kimchack said he had already been two nights on board the _Good Luck_ and had had no room to lie down. There we were, however, in the middle of the river, with no one to row the boat. Stahl could not move it by himself. At this moment a small boat pulled alongside, and Mr. Helms' face appeared in the darkness. How glad we were to see him! and he, faint and exhausted with wandering all day in the jungle, was glad of a gla.s.s of wine, which was soon got out of the provision basket. Then we opened a tin of soup, and fed our tired and hungry children, who behaved all through those terrible days as if it was a picnic excursion got up for their amus.e.m.e.nt. They enjoyed everything, and were no trouble at all, either Alan or Mab. Edith was a baby, and suffered very much from want of proper food--but that was later on. Mr. Helms and his crew rowed our boat into Jernang Creek, where there were some Malay houses. In one of these he and Alan went to sleep, but he advised us to remain in the boat until the morning. We laid Mab and Edith on one of the seats; Miss Woolley lay on the other; and I sat at the bottom of the boat to prevent the children from falling off. The mosquitoes were numerous on that mud bank, and I was very glad when the morning dawned. At six o'clock Mr.

Helms came to say we could have an empty Malay house on sh.o.r.e for a few days, so we gladly mounted up the landing-place and found a kind and hospitable reception from our Malay friends. They had put up some mat part.i.tions in a large room, that we might sleep in private, and presented us with a nice curry for breakfast. We then unpacked our box and dried the clothes in it, which were wet through from the overlading of the life-boat. About midday two Englishmen arrived from the Quop River, nearer to Kuching, where they had been with the Rajah. They only stayed a short time, but told us that the Kunsi Chinese had really gone to Bau, and that the Bishop was with the Rajah at Quop. Late at night I had a note from my husband, saying he thought we might return to Sarawak, for all was quiet, and he hoped the Rajah would come back early on Sunday morning. The next morning, therefore, we prepared to set off again in the life-boat, but first I went to pay a visit to Inchi Bouyang the Malay writer, who lived in one of the houses near, and who was too stout to venture out of his own house into a less strongly built one.

This seems absurd enough, but the Malay houses were certainly very slight; they seemed to sway in the mud of the creek, and the floors of the rooms were made of very open strips of nibong palm, so that you had to walk turning your feet well out in order not to slip through the lantiles. I found many Malays gathered in the writer's house, all to entreat me not to go to Kuching, because it was ”not a lucky day.” ”If the Malays fight the Chinese to-day,” they said, ”they will be beaten.”

”What reason have you for saying so?” ”No reason exactly, but the day is unlucky; it is like Friday to the English, they never go to sea on that day.” ”Oh,” said I, ”that was long ago: they often go to sea on Friday now they know better, and no sensible person thinks anything of lucky or unlucky days.” ”Well, we have told you what we think. If you must go, some of us will go with you, and we shall tell the Tuan Padre it was not our fault that you would not wait until to-morrow.” So Lulut, a servant of the Rajah's, and another Malay got into the boat with us, and we set off up the river.

CHAPTER XII.

CHINESE INSURRECTION (_Continued_).

As we proceeded up the river we agreed we would ask news of any boat we met. Presently we noticed smoke rising above the trees. ”The Malays are burning the Chinese town,” said the men; but as we drew nearer it was evidently the Malay town which was burning. At last we met a boat. ”Yes; the Chinese had returned, and had set fire to the Malay town; they were also firing at the Sarawak Chinese in the bazaar.” On Sat.u.r.day the Bishop and the Channons and Stahl had unspiked two of the guns left in the fort, and had hoisted the Sarawak flag again on the flag-staff. The Bishop then went to the Rajah's war boat at the Quop, and told him that the Malays had sent away their women, and were ready to fight should the Chinese return; and he begged him to come to our house early the next morning, where breakfast should be ready for him, and take the command.

But the Chinese heard of this, and returned in the morning, some by river, some by road. As soon as the Malays saw their boats rounding the corner near the Malay town, they attacked them bravely, drove them ash.o.r.e, and though suffering much loss from their superior fire, captured ten of their boats, and secured them to a Malay prahu in the river. While this struggle was going on, a large party of Chinese, who walked from Seniawan, were ransacking the town. Enraged with the Bishop for trying to bring the Rajah back, they rushed into our house to find him; but he, having sent off all our belongings, English and native, ran down the back stairs while the Chinese rushed up into the porch in front, and escaped to the Chinese town, where shots were flying about in plenty, but did not hit him. He got into a little boat pa.s.sing by, with two Malays in it, and they paddled him to the Rajah's war boat, then retreating down the river. When they reached the Quop he found a little boat, which brought him quickly to Jernang.

We lay off the town in the life-boat, and saw one boat after another rowing fast towards us. In one, Mr. Koch, the missionary, with a number of school-boys; in another, Mrs. Crookshank, laid on a mattress, Mrs.

Stahl, and Miss Coomes, and the school-girls; then the Channons'

families and some Chinese; then the Sing-Song's family, and more boys.

”Where is the Bishop?” I shouted. ”In the Rajah's war boat. We had the greatest difficulty in getting boats enough for us; the Chinese were running up to the house when he sent us off, and firing had already begun in the streets when Mrs. Crookshank was got into the boat.”

This was an anxious moment; but before long our servant James appeared with a message to me from my husband, to return to Jernang, and stay there until he appeared. Our Malay friends here left us, to join their families anch.o.r.ed in boats by the banks, and I filled the life-boat with the school-children to lighten the other boats. Then we pulled slowly back against the tide to Jernang. The little landing-place was crowded when we arrived, for the smaller boats had got there first. I had the greatest difficulty in persuading the Malays to give shelter to the Chinese Christians and children. I answered for their good behaviour; but all Chinese, whether rebels or no, were in sufficiently bad odour in those days. At last I got them part of a house to themselves. No sooner was all arranged than the Bishop arrived in his little boat; it was like receiving him from the dead.

Presently appeared the Rajah's war boat, he standing at the stern. We all ran down to meet him and Mr. Crookshank, and take them to Bertha, who had been carried into a house. While we were all standing on the little wharf, built on tall piles into the water, the Malays cried out that it was giving way, and we must all go into the houses. The Bishop then decided what to do with his large party. Mr. Helms had a schooner close by, in which he was going to Sambas, to seek a.s.sistance from the Dutch, our nearest neighbours. He kindly offered to take Miss Woolley, Miss Coomes, and two of our eldest school-boys with him. The rest of us could go to Linga, where there was a fort, as a little pinnace belonging to Mr. Steele lay handy at the mouth of the river. The Chinese, however, implored to go with us; and indeed it would have been cruel to leave them a prey to the Malays, or the bad Chinese, or the Dyaks. When we were lodged in the pinnace, therefore, the Bishop went back to Jernang, and packed all our Chinese into the life-boat, which was attached by a rope to the pinnace; so we were all together. It was nearly dark when we weighed anchor, and left the mouth of the river. There was a tiny cabin, just large enough to hold Bertha on her mattress; a fowl-house, into which our native children crept; an open hold, where we women sat down on our bundles, with our children in our arms; and there was a place for cargo forward, where the men settled themselves. The Rajah in his war boat also proceeded to Linga, and we expected him to arrive long before our slow boat; he would meet Mr. Johnson, his nephew, there, and organize a force of Dyaks from the great rivers, Sakarran and Batang Lupar, to drive away the Chinese rebels. We never had any doubt of their doing this eventually, though we feared the remedy might be almost as bad as the disease, if the Dyaks proved unmanageable and quarrelled with one another. The night was very dark and wet, and the deck leaked upon us, so that we and our bags and bundles were soon wet through. But we neither heeded the rain nor felt the cold. We had eaten nothing since early morning, but were not hungry; and although for several nights we could scarcely be said to have slept, we were not sleepy. A deep thankfulness took possession of my soul; all our dear ones were spared to us. My children were in my arms, my husband paced the deck over my head. I seemed to have no cares, and to be able to trust to G.o.d for the future, who had been so merciful to us. .h.i.therto. I remember, too, when Mrs. Stahl opened the provision basket, and gave us each a slice of bread and meat, how very good it was, although we had not thought about wanting it. We lit a little fire, and made some hot tea, but soon had a message from the Rajah's boat to put out the fire lest we should be seen. The only thing that troubled me was a nasty faint smell, for which I could not account; but next morning we found a Chinaman's head in a basket close by my corner, which was reason enough! We had taken a fine young man on board to help pull the sweeps, a Dyak, and this ghastly possession was his. He said he was at Kuching, looking about for a _head_, and went into the court-house. Hearing some one in a little side room, he peeped in, and saw a Chinaman gazing at himself in a bit of looking-gla.s.s, which was stuck against the wall. He drew his sword, and in one moment, stepping close behind him, cut off his head: and having obtained this prize, was naturally desirous of getting away from the place; so he came off as boatman in one of the flying boats, bringing the head in a basket, which he stowed in the side of the boat. It entirely spoilt my hand-bag, which lay near it; I had to throw it away, and everything in it which could not be washed in hot water.

Towards morning the sea made us all sick, added to the wet, and cold of dawn; yet, when the day cleared a little, and we got a fire on deck, and some hot tea and biscuits, and the children seemed none the worse for their bad night and the swarms of mosquitoes which had feasted upon them, we could not repine. In the evening we pa.s.sed the island of Burong, at the mouth of the Batang Lupar River, and Mr. Crookshank tried to stimulate the men pulling the sweeps to reach a Sebuyan village farther on, before the tide left us and it grew dark. By dint of hard pulling we made the village, and its little fort, standing close beside the water and washed by its strong tide. A little boat came off from the fort, with some Malays, of whom we inquired for the Rajah, thinking his boat was far ahead of us, but they said they had seen nothing of him.

Mr. Crookshank then begged them to bring a boat in which he could take Bertha up to Linga Fort that evening, instead of her remaining another night in the pinnace. We went on as long as the tide lasted, and then anch.o.r.ed in the Batang Lupar. Again we made a fire on deck, and after taking some food, settled ourselves for the night. At eleven o'clock the promised boat came for Bertha and Mr. Crookshank, and Mrs. Stahl went with them as nurse; they thought nothing could be worse than spending another night on board the pinnace, but I fear the little boat journey was still more painful. When they reached Linga, they found only Malays in the fort, and the dwelling-house shut up, for Mr. Johnson was at Sakarran. They had to carry Mrs. Crookshank up a ladder into the fort, and lay her on a table; but happily Mr. Chambers arrived that night from Banting, and furnished a curtain as a screen, and pillows from his boat to make a more comfortable couch. As we were setting off again next morning, we met Mr. Johnson in a long boat, going straight off to Kuching. He was lying ill of fever at Sakarran, when his Malays roused him by saying, without preface--”The news is bad, Tuan: the Rajah is killed and Kuching in the hands of the rebel Chinese.” Upon this he jumped up, called together the chiefs, and bidding them follow him with a strong force of Dyaks, he set off himself without calling at Linga by the way. When we told him that Rajah was alive and on his way to Linga, he turned back with us, and taking me, my ayah, and the children into his boat, soon landed us at his house. This was Tuesday, but we heard nothing of the Rajah until Friday. Mr. Johnson, after breakfasting with us at his house, went on to Kuching, and found that, after we lost sight of the Rajah's war boat, they had fallen in with the steamer belonging to the Borneo Company, the _Sir James Brooke_, just entering the river.

Mr. Helms' schooner also came across her, so all the pa.s.sengers in the schooner and the war boat had moved into the steamer, and they immediately proceeded up the river, preparing the guns on board to attack as soon as they reached the town. What must have been the feelings of the Chinese in the fort when they saw the smoke of the steamer curling above the trees, and then received one ten-pounder shot after another into their midst! They fired one round of grape shot at the steamer, and shouts of ”Run!” rose on all sides. The steamer then proceeded up to the Malay town, where the Malays still held out against the Chinese; but as they were getting very short of ammunition, and their enemies were bringing some large guns to bear on their position, they greeted the steamer with shouts of welcome. The Chinese fled in every direction. Cut off from their boats, they ran into the jungle; and while many no doubt reached Bau in safety, many fell into the hands of the Dyaks, who, following their usual course of warfare, spread themselves through the jungle, and took the head of every man they met.

The town was quite clear of the rebels in a few hours, and the _Sir James Brooke_, anch.o.r.ed in the river, furnished the base of operations which the Rajah required: from thence he could direct the Malay and Dyak forces, which were immediately at his disposal, to drive the rebels out of the country. The day before, the Chinese had filled our house and looted it completely, except the books in the library, for which they seem to have had some respect; but we had reason to believe that on Monday the house would have been burnt, for gunpowder and inflammable materials were found strewed about after they left. They took everything they could carry away, and destroyed the rest, cutting long slits in the gauze of the mosquito-rooms, and pouring all the chemicals and medicines of the dispensary over the contents of the drawers, clothes, and papers they did not wish for. They found a long table set out ready for breakfast, and had only to gather up the small plate, which, with a house full of people, was all in requisition. The church, too, was emptied of all its furniture, and the harmonium smashed; but the opportune arrival of the steamer prevented these buildings from sharing the fate of the other houses.

Meanwhile, we were settling ourselves with our large party in Mr.

Johnson's house, which he kindly placed at our disposal. This house was surrounded by a latticed verandah, the ground immediately about it was cleared of jungle and drained by deep ditches. From the fort you looked over the wide stretch of water of the Batang Lupar, but it was a lonely and monotonous look-out. As the fort men were taken away to fight at Kuching, the gentlemen had to form themselves into watches day and night, with the few Malays who remained to guard the fort. Boats full of Dyaks continually arrived, to join the Rajah's force--Balows, Sarebas, and Sakarrans lay side by side on the river, all excited by the prospects of war, and frequently causing silly panics among the Malays of Linga, lest these warriors, from tribes so long enemies, should fall out with one another before they got to Kuching. There were, of course, no books or newspapers to read; our Bibles and Prayer-books alone were among our luggage. We women were the best off, for we got some unbleached calico from Sakarran, and cut out some under-clothing, of which we had but little; this gave us occupation. We also had every day to wash our linen and towels after bathing. The bath was a clear running stream, covered in near the house, very pretty and romantic, but the water was of a light brown colour, like toast and water, and had a slightly acid taste, very agreeable but not very wholesome. Probably the spring forced its way through dead leaves in the jungle; at any rate, it did not wash the clothes white. It was very difficult to procure food for us all. Rice and gourds made into a kind of curry stew was our daily meal; if a chicken was got it was devoted to the children and the sick.

We were very anxious for some time on account of Mrs. Crookshank. Had she remained quiet at Kuching, her wounds would have healed quickly, for she was young and perfectly healthy; but all the moving into boats, and carrying up ladders and steps, had broken open the wounds, and it was a struggle of strength and youth against adverse circ.u.mstances. She was so patient and cheerful that we never heard a complaint, which was in her favour no doubt; still there were some days when her life was in great danger in that hot climate. Twice during the month we received a box from Kuching, sent by a native boat. Once it contained our mail--an immense pleasure; also some bread and biscuits, but they were wet with salt water, and mouldy besides. However, Mab and Alan could eat them. I used to look with thankful astonishment at those children, both so delicate generally, but who throve all the time we were without proper food or shelter. But baby Edith shrank and pined, and at last my husband said, ”We shall lose this child if you stay here any longer: better go and live among the Dyaks, who have plenty of fowls.”

So Mr. Chambers kindly took us in at his house at Banting, where we had a most loving welcome, and saw something of the Dyak women and children.