My Friends the Savages Part 10

[Ill.u.s.tration: In quest of fruit and bulbs.

_p._ 91.]

The Sakais thought directly that her sudden decease must be owing to an evil spell of the Bretaks who wished for a revenge for the reluctance shown in giving them the salt. They quickly decided that the crime should be punished by death and started off in pursuit of the supposed culprits. As soon as they were within reach they attacked them with a volley of poisoned darts. The others naturally defended themselves and the conflict ended with three dead.

In the course of time the Government came to hear of the question and bade the _pengulu_ (Malay chief) to make enquiries in order to establish the responsibility. But he refused to interfere.

No sooner was I appointed Superintendent than I received orders to interest myself in the matter, and an escort of armed soldiers was put at my disposition for the arrest of those found guilty. But this way of proceeding was not to my opinion, as I explained in my report. The fact was quite an exceptional one and was the consequence of a deplorable superst.i.tion. By imprisoning someone we should not have cured the great evil of ignorance, but only have sown the seed of hatred against the White Man, for the men who were taken prisoners could not live long in seclusion and their untimely death would never be pardoned.

The British Authority being favourable to this my way of thinking I was able to go alone and find out the rights of the case after which I managed to obtain a complete pacification of all concerned.

I had been but a short time in my new office when I decided to make a tour of inspection through the territory entrusted to my care and I really do not remember any other of my travels so full of incidents and emotional adventures. Two, in particular, will never be erased from my memory.

I was journeying quite by myself, confiding perhaps too much in the knowledge I had gained of the jungle, and the possibility of being lost in the forest never entered my head.

And yet this is one of the greatest perils that can befall anybody, for it may be a compendium of all the others.

He who is born and who grows up in the forest does not run this risk for certain, because from a slight cut in a tree, a broken reed, a pendant bough, the smallest sign that would escape the keenest of European eyes, the native knows how to draw precise indications of the direction to be followed. Wherever he goes, he never forgets to leave some trace of his pa.s.sage in order to find his way back without uncertainty and loss of time. In this way the Sakais wander about the jungle with astounding security just as if they were walking along a well-traced out path.

The same prodigious variety of woodland scenery that the forest offers to the gaze gives it a certain uniformity in the mind of a white man.

The colossal trees that stretch away one after the other as far as can be seen; the twining vines and creepers which cl.u.s.ter everywhere; the huge bushes and flowering thickets; the dips and hollows in the ground, and the little ponds over which the green of reed and rush triumphs equally with bright floral colours. The European embraces all this in a sole glance, in its entirety, but cannot discern, like the Sakai, the difference that exists between this tree and that, this glen and the other. And if the poor man be alone he will surely be lost; and if he is lost there is very little chance of his ever getting out again.

Evening was fast approaching; the birds were singing their last songs for the day, and in the first hour of a brief twilight breathed that solemn calm which especially belongs to the forest when its more innocent inhabitants are beginning to conceal themselves for the night, and the ferocious beasts of darkness are not yet abroad in search of prey.

It was getting late and I hastened to reach my cabin, but hurry as I would it never came in sight. I could not understand this at all until suddenly (with what dismay I will leave my reader to imagine) I perceived that I had been following the tracks of a bear, believing them to have been a man's.

Alarmed, I looked about me on every side, scrutinizing every part; I advanced a little this way and that, then retraced my steps, anxiously endeavouring to find out a clue to the right direction.

Alas! there was no mistaking the truth; I was lost in the depth of the forest, and what was worse, at nightfall!

Little by little anguish parched my throat and drops of cold sweat stood on my brow. What could I do? If I remained on the ground I should be exposed to the fatal caresses of some wild beast, on the other hand if I climbed up a tree (no very easy matter as I should have to find a creeper strong enough to bear my weight) should I not be equally exposed to the deadly clasp of a snake?

The darker it grew, the more my bewilderment and anxiety increased. I began to hollo desperately, calling frantically for help with such a piercing voice as I had never dreamt of possessing before. It was my only and last hope.

Tired, hungry, thirsty and disheartened I continued to shout as loudly as I could and at last it seemed to me that a human voice answered my wild cries from a distance. Once more I bawled with all my might and then listened. Yes, there was no doubt; someone had heard me, and with the auricular acuteness of despair I turned towards the direction of the sound and hurried forward.

It was not long before I came across a solitary hut that I found to be inhabited by a family of six persons.

I narrated my perilous adventure and they gave me food (which was certainly not intended for delicate stomachs) and water, and I, in return, handed round some tobacco, then, tranquil as regarded the night, with a sigh of relief I lighted my pipe, the ever faithful companion of my travels, and began to chat with the old man, the head of the family.

I intentionally introduced the Sakais' dislike for work and asked him the reason why.

Very quietly, and without the least hesitation, he replied:

"Why should we give ourselves the pain and fatigue of working like slaves? Does not the earth give us, spontaneously, more than enough for our need without tormenting it with implements?".

The argument was logical, but I smiled and remarked:

"It does not seem to me that the earth provides everything without working it. When you want rice or tobacco you have to ask it from those who cultivate it".

The old man quickly retorted:

"And what does that matter? We have the right of demand because both are grown upon our soil. By cutting down our beautiful forest for plantations we are deprived of game and fruit; by drying up our ponds we have no fish to eat; by cultivating our land we are being continually driven farther towards the mountains, in search of that food which satisfied our fathers, but the stranger who comes amongst us beats the path that we have traced with our feet. Is it not just then that we should have some recompense, that certain of our needs should be considered?".

[Ill.u.s.tration: In quest of animal food.

_p._ 91.]

"Povera e nuda vai, filosofia",[6] I muttered to myself, admiring that old man, ignorant and bare, who in the rough, broken phrases of his poor language solved with the greatest simplicity questions of civil rights which a University professor would have found complicated and even difficult. I continued however:

"But then if n.o.body came to you, treading your paths; if n.o.body cultivated some strips of your forest, how would you obtain calico, and tobacco and rice?".

With a shake of his head my humble host hastened to answer:

"Cannot man live without these trifles? Does not the forest supply us with flesh, fish, and fowl? Does it not produce, for our use, roots, bulbs, truffles, mushrooms, edible leaves and exquisite fruit? Do not its trees provide us with shelter and their bark with a covering for our bodies, when it is necessary? What more could one desire?".

I was nonplused! But noticing that my new friend was in the vein to chat, a fact which I inwardly attributed to the effects of that same tobacco, whose necessity he had just denied, but which he was smoking with evident pleasure, I turned the conversation by asking why his people were not be found in other parts of the Peninsula?

"We love our forest and our liberty too well ever to leave these confines of our own accord" he replied placidly and in tones of conviction, "and when, as sometimes happened in the past, our people were forced to follow and serve their conquerors they brought little or no profit to their masters because if they found a chance of escaping back to their kindred they did so, and if not, in a short time they died of broken hearts. As for our children, we would rather kill them ourselves than let them go into the hands of our neighbours. Now that we are protected by the _orang putei_" (he meant the British Government) "we and our families live in more peace than before".

As though overcome by painful memories, he became silent and sad. After a minute he went on in a dull voice, seeming to speak to himself: "Once upon a time these parts were not so deserted, and populous, prosperous villages were scattered over the forest. But our tranquillity and well-being excited the envy of other tribes who wanted to subject us to them and to make us work like slaves, so they came against us armed, and pillaged, burnt and destroyed everything belonging to us. We were dispersed and compelled to live in isolated huts erected in the most inaccessible places in order not to attract the attention of other men".

He paused again and then added:

"We have nothing to lose now except our freedom which is more precious to us than life itself, and for this we are ready to fight to the very last even if our bodies are left on the ground for beasts and birds to feed upon".

A fierce light kindled the old Sakai's eyes, which boded evil for anyone who attempted to disturb the quietude of their present rambling life.

And I understood how much stronger these inoffensive people were in their dispersion than when they were banded together in villages. If aggressors should attack these solitary huts they would find their owners prompt to meet the attack with all the ferocity of wild beasts and even if n.o.body was saved from the ma.s.sacre to report the terrible news in other encampments, alarm would have been given by the sound of fire-arms and cries. In consequence the other Sakais would immediately destroy all signs of their habitation, and penetrate farther into the forest which, for them, has no secret concealed. Towards night they would creep among the tall gra.s.ses until they found the enemy that would serve us a target for their poisoned arrows. However well their foes might know the use of gun and revolver, they would be at a disadvantage, for these weapons reveal the position occupied by those who shoot but the fatal dart flies out of the darkness leaving the spot from whence it comes uncertain.

Nothing could be more disastrous in the way of warfare than an attack with poisoned arrows, in the midst of the forest, during the night. Your men would fall right and left without having been able to defend themselves in any way.

I afterwards got the old man to tell me something about their customs regarding marriage and family organization.

"By thus living separate", he said "each family by itself, without being subject to any chief or authority, save only that of the Elder (be he father or grandfather), our peace is guaranteed. There are no quarrels, there is no jealousy or bad-feeling, for all are equal, all live in the same way and each one divides what he may possess amongst the others, so that there is also no injustice".

I raised the objection that this perfect equality could not possibly exist because the identical rights and duties in domestic economy could not be applied in the same way to the hale and strong members of the family as to the weak and sickly. But I had to repeat my idea in various ways before the Sakai caught the meaning, then he exclaimed:

"Ah, I suppose you are speaking of some sort of deformity, or defect.

Amongst us it is so rare to find either one or the other that it would be difficult for a Sakai to understand when you talk of men different to him in form or robustness. If however, the Evil Spirit makes one of our children be born deformed, or with a defect, he is treated with the care necessary to his state but he cannot transmit his infirmity to others because, first of all our customs compel him to lead a life of chast.i.ty, and secondly, no woman of our tribe would consent to a union with him".

Oh, Lycurgus, I thought, thy wise laws have here, among savages, a less brutal application. For one who dies loveless (and as the Sakais are not given to strong pa.s.sions, and are chaste by nature, this is not a very great sacrifice) many are saved from unhappiness and a whole race preserved from degeneration.

The old man having spoken of the Evil Spirit, I abruptly demanded who this much feared being might be.

"He possesses all things", he answered, lowering his voice as if afraid of being heard. "He is in the wind, the lightning, the earthquake, he is in the trees and the water. Sometimes he enters our huts and makes someone die; then we bury our dead very deep under the ground, leaving to them food and their own property, and we fly from the spot, for it is a dangerous thing to remain under the Spirit's gaze".