For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes

After the feast was over the chief, after a consultation with the rest, pointed to a tree close to that in which his own hut was situated. The whole village set to work, ladders were fixed against it; and the men, ascending, hacked away with krisses and stone hatchets at the trunk. Hans–seeing their object–made signs to the chief to lend him his ax and, ascending to the tree, set to work with it; doing, in five minutes, more work than the whole of the natives employed could have accomplished in an hour. After working for some time, he handed the ax to one of the natives, who continued the work. The tree was not a large one–the trunk, at this point, being about 18 inches in diameter. Half an hour's work sufficed to cut it through; and the upper part of the tree fell, with a crash.

In the meantime the women had brought in, from the forest, a quantity of bamboos and, with these, the men set to work and speedily formed a platform. Upon this a hut was erected, the roof and sides being covered with palm leaves laid closely together, forming a roof impervious to rain. Two large bundles of fern, for beds, were then taken up; and the chief, ascending, solemnly invited the boys to come up and take possession.

A woman was told off to prepare food for them, and attend to their wants and, by nightfall, the lads found themselves in a comfortable abode of their own. Pulling up the ladder, after the manner of the natives, they sat down to chat over their altered prospects. They were now clearly regarded as adopted into the village community, and need have no further fear as to their personal security, or means of living.

"For the time we are safe," Will said; "but–as I don't want to turn Malay, and live all my life with no other amusement than keeping my own head on, and hunting for those of the enemies of the village–we must think of making our escape, somehow; though at present, I own I don't see how."

Chapter 6: The Attack On The Village

A day or two later a Malay ran at full speed into the village, and said a few words which caused a perfect hubbub of excitement. The men shouted. The women screamed and, running up the ladders to their tree abodes, began gathering together the various articles of value, in their eyes. The chief came up to the boys and, by signs, intimated that a large number of hostile natives, belonging to several villages, were advancing to attack them; and that they must fly into the interior.

This was very unwelcome news for the lads. Once removed farther from the sea the tribe might, not improbably, take up their abode there, as they would fear to return to the neighborhood of their enemies. This would be fatal to any chance of the lads being taken off by a passing ship. After a few words together, they determined to oppose the movement. Will, in a loud voice and with threatening gestures, intimated that he disapproved of the plan, and that he and his companion would assist them in defending their village.

The Malays paused in their preparations. Their faith in their white visitors was very great and, after a few minutes' talk among themselves, they intimated to the boys that they would obey their orders. Will at once signed to a few men to stand as guards round the village, to warn them of the approaching enemy; and then set the whole of the rest of the population to work cutting sharp-pointed poles, boughs, and thorny bushes. With these a circle was made around the trees upon which the village was built. Fortunately the hostile Malays had halted in the forest, two or three miles away, intending to make their attack by night and, as the news of their coming had arrived at noon, the villagers had, before they ceased work late in the evening, erected a formidable hedge round the village.

Some of the women had been set to work manufacturing a number of torches, similar to those used by them for lighting their dwellings, but much larger. They were formed of the stringy bark of a tree, dipped in the resinous juice obtained from another. Will had one of these fastened to each of the trees nearest to the hedge. They were fixed to the trunks on the outside, so that their flame would throw a light on the whole circle beyond the hedge while, within, all would be shadow and darkness.

It was very late before all preparations were completed. Will then placed a few men as outposts, some hundred yards in the forest, in the direction from which the enemy were likely to approach. They were ordered to give the alarm, the moment they heard a noise; and were then to run in and enter the circle by a small gap, which had been left in the abbatis for the purpose. Many of the men then took their posts, with their bows and arrows, in the trees near the hedge. The others remained on the ground, ready to rush to any point assailed.

For several hours no sound save the calls of the night birds, and the occasional distant howls of beasts of prey, were heard in the forest; and it was not until within an hour of morning–the hour generally selected by Malays for an attack, as men sleep at that time the heaviest–that a loud yell, at one of the outposts, told that the enemy were close at hand.

Two or three minutes later the scouts ran in, and the gap through which they had entered was at once filled up with bushes, which had been piled close at hand for the purpose. Aware that their approach was discovered, the enemy abandoned all further concealment; and advanced with wild yells, intending to strike terror into the defenders of the village. As they advanced the torches were all lighted and, as the assailants came within their circle of light, a shower of arrows from the Malays on the ground, and in the trees above, was poured into them.

Yells and screams told that the volley had been a successful one but, discharging their arrows in turn, the Malays, with demoniac yells, rushed against the village. The advance, however, was arrested suddenly when they arrived at the abbatis. From behind its shelter, so deadly a rain of arrows was poured in that they soon shrank back, and bounded away beyond the circle of light, while taunting shouts rose from its defenders.

For a time they contented themselves by distant shouting; and then, with a wild yell, charged forward again. Several dropped from the fire of arrows, from those in the trees and behind the abbatis but, discharging their arrows in return, the assailants kept on until they again reached the impediment. Here they strove furiously to break through–hacking with their krisses, and endeavoring to pull up the stakes with their hands–but the defenders, in the shade behind, sent their arrows so fast and thick that the assailants again shrank back, and darted away to shelter.

Throughout the night there was no renewal of the attack and, in the morning, not a foe was visible. Two or three scouts went out to reconnoiter; but no sooner did they enter the forest than one of them was shot down, and the rest sent flying back.

"I believe the scoundrels are going to try to starve us out," Will said. "Let us speak to the chief, and ask how much provisions they have got."

After much pantomime, Will succeeded in conveying his meaning to the chief; and the latter at once ordered all the inhabitants to produce their stock of food. This was unexpectedly large, and Will thought that there was sufficient for a fortnight's consumption. He now made signs of drinking, but the reply to this was disheartening in the extreme. A few gourds full of water were brought forward, and two or three of the close-woven baskets in which water is often carried, in this country. There was, in fact, scarce enough to last the defenders for a day. The stream from which the village drew its supply of water was about a couple of hundred yards away; consequently the villagers fetched up their water as they needed it, and no one thought of keeping a store.

Will looked in dismay at the smallness of the supply.

"If they really intend to starve us out, Hans, we are done for. No doubt they reckon on our water falling short. They would know that it was not likely that there would be a supply here."

The natives were not slow to recognize the weak point of their defense One or two of the men, taking water baskets, were about to go to the stream; but Will made signs to the chief that they must not do this. The only hope was that the enemies would draw off; but if they saw that water was already short, they would be encouraged to continue to beleaguer the place. Will was unable to explain his reasons to the chief; but the latter, seeing how great was the advantage that they had already gained, by following the counsel of their white visitors in the matter of the hedge, acquiesced at once in their wishes.

Will then ascended to one of the huts, and carefully reconnoitered the whole ground. There was, he saw, at the end farthest from the stream, a slight dip in the land extending into the forest. Beckoning the chief to join him, he made signs that, at night, the warriors should issue silently from the village at this point, and make noiselessly through the wood. They would then take a wide circuit, till they came upon the stream; and would then, working up it, fall upon the enemy in the rear.

The chief was dubious; but Will made an imperative gesture and the chief, in a humble manner, agreed to do as he was ordered. The day passed slowly and, before nightfall, the supply of water was entirely finished. Once or twice scouts had gone out, to see if the enemy were still round the village; but returned, each time, with the news that they were there.

The last time, just before nightfall, Will directed two or three of them to take water buckets, and to go in the direction of the stream; signing to them, however, to return the moment they saw signs of the enemy. They were soon back and, as Will had expected, the sight of the water buckets showed the enemy that the garrison of the village were badly supplied, in that respect; and taunting shouts arose from the woods, asking them why they did not go down to drink.

Will felt certain that the Malays would now draw the greater part of their number down to the side of the stream; and that there would therefore be the more chance of the garrison making their way out, at the other end of the village. Three hours after it was dark, the chief mustered all his men. They were about five-and-forty, in all. Will signed that each should take with him a water basket or large gourd so that, in case they failed in defeating the enemy, and breaking up the blockade, they might at least be able to bring a supply of water into the village. Will then, with much difficulty, explained to the chief that the old men, boys, and women remaining in the village were, the moment they heard the sound of the attack upon the enemy's rear, to shout and yell their loudest, and to shoot arrows in the direction of the enemy.

A few sticks had already been pulled up at the point of the hedge through which Will intended to make a sally, and the band now passed noiselessly out. The chief himself led the way, the white boys following behind him. Lying upon their stomachs, they crawled noiselessly along down the little depression and, in ten minutes, were well in the wood; without having met with an enemy, although they had several times heard voices among the trees, near them.

They now rose to their feet and, making a wide detour, came down, after a quarter of an hour's walk, upon the stream. Here the gourds and baskets were filled; and then, keeping along by the waterside, they continued their march. Presently they saw a number of fires, round which many Malays were sitting. They crept noiselessly up until within a few yards and then, with a yell, burst upon the enemy. Numbers were cut down at once; and the rest, appalled by this attack on their rear, and supposing that the inhabitants of some other village must have arrived to the assistance of those they were besieging, at once fled in all directions. Those remaining in the village had seconded the attack by wild shouts, so loud and continuous that their besiegers had no reason to suppose that their number had been weakened.

For a few minutes the pursuit was kept up; then the chief recalled his followers, with a shout. The water baskets–many of which had been thrown down in the attack–were refilled, and the party made their way up to the village, where they were received with shouts of triumph.

The panic of the Malays had been, in no slight degree, caused by the appearance of the two boys; who had purposely stripped to the waist, and had shouted at the top of their voices as, waving the krisses which they had borrowed, they fell upon the foe. The idea that white devils were leagued with the enemies against them had excited the superstitious fear of the Malays to the utmost; and when, in the morning, scouts again sallied from the village, they found that the enemy had entirely gone–the fact that they had not even returned to carry off the effects which had been abandoned, in the first panic, showing that they had continued their flight, without stopping, to their distant villages.

The chief, like an able politician, took advantage of the impression which his white visitors had created and, the same day, sent off messengers to the villages which had combined in the attack against them, saying that the white men–his guests–were very angry; and that, unless peace was made, and a solemn promise given that there should be no renewal of the late attempts, they were going to lay a dreadful spell upon the villages. Women and children would be seized by disease, and the right arms of the warriors wither up.

This terrible threat carried consternation into the Malay villages. The women burst into prolonged wailings, and the bravest of the men trembled. The messenger said that the white men had consented to abstain from using their magical powers until the following day; and that the only chance to propitiate them was for deputations from the villages to come in, early the next morning, with promises of peace and offerings for the offended white men.

It was not for some time afterwards that the lads learned enough of the language to understand what had been done; but they guessed, from the exultation of the chief, and the signs which he made that their late enemies would shortly come in, in an attitude of humiliation, that he had in some way succeeded in establishing a scare among them.

On the following morning deputations–consisting of six warriors, and women bearing trays with fruit, birds, and other offerings–arrived at the village. The men were unarmed. At their approach, the chief made signs to the boys to take a seat at the foot of the principal tree; and then, accompanied by his leading warriors, led the deputation–with much ceremony–before them. The women placed their trays at their feet, and the men addressed them in long speeches, and with many signs of submission.

The boys played their part well. As soon as they saw what was required of them they signified, with an air of much dignity, that they accepted the offerings; and then went through the ceremony of shaking hands, solemnly, with each of the warriors. Then they made a speech in which, with much gesticulation, they signified to the visitors that a terrible fate would befall them, should they again venture to meddle with the village.

Much awed and impressed, the Malays withdrew. The boys made a selection, from the baskets of fruit, for their own eating; and then signified, to the chief, that he should divide the rest among the inhabitants of the village. When this was done, the boys ascended to their tree and passed the day there quietly; the villagers indulging in feasting, singing, and rejoicing over their victory.

"The worst of all this is," Will said to Hans, "that the more they reverence us, and the more useful they find us, the more anxious they will be to keep us always with them. However, there is one comfort: we are safe, as long as we choose to remain here; and that is more than we could have hoped for, when we first landed from the wreck. It is curious that the Malays, who have no hesitation in attacking English ships, and murdering their crews, have yet a sort of superstitious dread of us. But I suppose it is something the same way as it was in England, in the days of the persecution of old women as witches: they believed that, if left to themselves, they could cast deadly spells, and yet they had no hesitation in putting them to death. I suppose that it is something of the same feeling, here."

Chapter 7: The Fight With The Prahus

Very frequently, in the days that followed, William Gale and his friend Hans talked over the possibility of effecting an escape; but the difficulties appeared almost invincible. The various villages which, so far as the boys could understand, were scattered at some distance apart, had little dealings with each other; and indeed, were frequently engaged in feuds. The particular people with whom they lived had nothing whatever to do with the sea. They used–at least so the boys understood, by their signs–to fish, at one time; but they had been robbed of their boats, and maltreated, by some of the cruising tribes who lived in villages on the coast, or on creeks and rivers.

The possibility of escape seemed small, indeed. To escape they must get on board a ship and, to do this, they must first go out to sea; and this could only be done in a boat of their own, or in one of the piratical prahus. The latter course could not be thought of, for the coast pirates were bloodthirsty in the extreme and, even could they change their residence to one of the seaside villages, and gain the friendship of the inhabitants, they would be no nearer to their end. For as these go out to attack, and not to trade with European ships, there would be no chance of escaping in that way.

Upon the other hand, they might build a boat of their own; but they considered it improbable that the Malays would allow them to depart, for they evidently regarded their presence as a prodigy; and revered them as having miraculously arrived, at the moment when a great danger threatened the village. But, even should they be allowed to build a boat and depart, they knew not whither to go. They knew nothing of navigation, and were ignorant of the geography of the Archipelago; and the chances of their striking upon the one or two spots, where, alone they could land with safety, were so small that it would be madness to undertake the voyage.

For six months they lived quietly in the Malay village. The people instructed them in the use of their blowguns, in which they are wonderfully skilful; being able to bring down a bird, sitting on a lofty bough of a tree, with almost an unerring accuracy. They also taught them to shoot with the bow and arrow, and they found that the natives used the roots of various kinds of plants for food. The time did not pass unpleasantly and, had they known that it would last but a few months, only, they would have enjoyed it much.

At last, after much deliberation, they determined that they would–as a first step towards escape–construct a little boat, under pretense of wanting to fish. Accordingly one day, when out with the chief and two or three of his men in the direction of the sea, they pointed there, and signified that they wished to go there–for they had picked up a good many Malay words. The chief shook his head, but they insisted in so authoritative a manner that he gave way, and followed them.

When they reached the shore, they made signs that they wanted to construct a boat. Again the chief shook his head vehemently; and enforced his meaning by pointing along shore, and going through the action first of rowing, then of fighting–intimating that they would certainly be killed, if they ventured out, by the fierce coast tribes. The boys nodded, to show that they understood what he wished to say but, pointing to the water a few yards from shore, went through the action of fishing; then, burdening themselves with imaginary fish, they pointed to the village, and showed that they would supply it with food.

The Malays talked for some time among themselves. They had so vast a respect for the white men that they did not like to thwart their wishes. The thought, too, of a supply of fish–of which they had been long deprived owing to their feuds with some of the coast villages–also operated strongly in favor of their yielding an assent and, at last, the chief made signs that he agreed and, pointing to the village, intimated that assistance should be given in building a boat.

The next day, accordingly, ten or twelve men came down to the shore with them. A tree was felled, the ends were pointed, and the whole formed roughly into the shape of a canoe. Fires were lighted on the top and, by dint of flame and ax, a hollow was dug out. The operation lasted three days, the men having brought provisions with them, so as to avoid making the journey–two and a half hours long–to and from the village each day. The boat, when finished, was but a rough construction; and would have excited the mockery of any of the coast villagers, as they are expert boat builders. Still, it was amply sufficient for the purpose for which it was intended–namely, for fishing inside the line of reefs.

It was heavy, and paddled slowly; and the lads had a strong suspicion that the Malays had purposely made it more clumsy and unseaworthy than need be, in order that they should have no temptation to attempt a distant journey in it.

There was no difficulty about lines, the Malays being skilled in making string and ropes from the fibers of trees. The hooks were more difficult but, upon searching very carefully along the shore, the lads found some fragments of one of the ship boats; and in these were several copper nails which, hammered and bent, would serve their purpose well. The lines were ready on the day the canoe was finished and, as soon as she was launched, the chief and one of the other Malays, and the boys, took their seats in her.

The natives paddled her out nearly to the edge of the reef. Four lines, baited with pieces of raw birds' flesh, were thrown overboard. A few minutes passed–rather anxiously for the lads, who were most desirous that the fishing should be successful, so as to afford them an excuse for frequently pursuing it. Then there was a bite; and Hans, who held the line, found that it taxed his strength to haul in the fish which tugged and strained upon it. When it was got into the boat, it proved to be some fourteen pounds in weight. By this time two of the other baits had been taken and, in less than an hour, they had caught upwards of thirty fish, most of them of considerable size.

The natives were delighted and, paddling to shore, the burden was distributed among the whole party, with the exception of the chief and the two whites. Before starting, a young tree was cut down and chopped into lengths of a few feet each; and on these rollers the canoe was hauled high up the beach. Then the party set out for the village; where their arrival, with so large a supply of food, occasioned great rejoicing.

After this, the boys went down regularly, every day, to fish. At first three or four of the natives always accompanied them, under pretense of carrying back the fish; but really, as they thought, to keep a watch over them. To lessen their hosts' suspicions, sometimes one or other stayed in the village. As time went on, the suspicion of the Malays abated. The number of the guard was lessened and, finally, as the men disliked so long a tramp, some of the boys were told off to accompany the white men, and assist in bringing back their fish. They were in the habit of starting soon after daybreak, and of not returning till late in the evening; accounting for their long absence by pointing to the sun.

The fishing was always performed immediately they reached the coast. When they had caught as many as they and the boys could carry, these were placed in a large covered basket; which was sunk in the water close to the shore, to keep the fish in good condition until they started. Then they would paddle about within the reef or, during the extreme heat of the day, lie in the boat, shaded by bunches of palm leaves. The Malay boys–who were set on shore after the fishing–were left alone; and amused themselves by bathing, or passed the time asleep under the trees.