My Friends the Savages. Giovanni Battista Cerruti
of proceeding, it is also of the English, who are Masters in everything that concerns colonization.
My baggage being ready it only remained for me to find some carriers who would be useful to me, if not as guides to the country of the Sakais, at least as interpreters between me and its inhabitants.
Penang is populated chiefly by Malays but numerous other races are represented there, especially Chinese and Indians. Without much trouble I succeeded in engaging the services of five porters: a Malay, an Indian, a Chinese, a Siamese and a Sam-Sam, quite a lad. Together they formed a little Babel which I congratulated myself would prove of great help in making overtures with the Sakais.
All my followers, with the exception of the Sam-Sam, had faces which would have graced the gallows and I am sure that Lombroso[2] would have classified them without hesitation as born-criminals. But their forbidding countenances did not alarm me as it is well known that the basest villain becomes timid and servile when confronted by unexpected danger, and I was well aware that the dread of tigers, snakes, traps and poisoned arrows, the thousand mysteries of Death which the wonderful forest encloses amidst its countless trees, amongst the confusion of its thick interlaced creepers and under its soft moss and long grass would have converted these ugly-faced, crooked-souled individuals into docile lambs. I knew that once they had entered a land, to them not known, they would not forsake me, for the Oriental has faith in the European and will follow whither the latter leads, attributing to him rare qualities of courage and energy as well as a marvellous ability in overcoming obstacles and getting out of difficult positions.
We left Penang on a coasting steamer and after going up the River Perak for about 60 miles we reached the little town of Telok Anson where we landed.
It was too early in the morning, when, we arrived for me to present myself to the British Authority and as the local officials did not in the slightest way interfere with my free passage nor subject me to any sort of inquisitorial interrogations (which in other colonies and under other Protectorates I had been obliged to undergo) I gave orders for our immediate departure as I was anxious to commence our march as soon as possible.
Having divided our load of provisions in equal parts we crossed the Perak on a pontoon and with a "slamat gialat" (pleasant journey) from the man on board we found ourselves upon the shores where my adventures had to begin.
I was there, then, with my face turned towards a new land, and a thrill of joyous emotion pervaded me. What surprises were reserved for me up on the wooded mountains towards which we were bending our steps? What things, what habits would be revealed to me when I reached my goal?
I was leaving behind me civilized company. I was isolating myself from educated society but I was not perturbed at the thought of the hardship, the sufferings, the dangers that lay before me. Vague and pleasant hopes smiled upon me from the Future. Of what nature were they? I could not tell.
"Forward!" I said to myself and my carriers. And the march began.
The first day passed very well, in spite of the intense heat, and nothing occurred worth mentioning. It was growing dark and we had already done about 20 miles when we came in sight of a hut erected amongst some cocoanut and banana trees. We soon found that it was occupied by a Malay, with his wife and children, who had come there for the cultivation of rice.
My request for hospitality, until the morning, was received with evident distrust, but the hope of coveted gifts in the end, got the better of Islamatic superstition in the soul of the Malay, and a covered corner of his humble residence was accorded me and my men.
During the night I tried to make the Malay talk about the Sakais but I could not ask him any direct questions as it would have been a serious affair if my companions came to suspect that our way through the forest was entirely new to me and that I was ignorant of the place where our journey would end.
I managed, however, to find out that quite recently some Sakais had ventured as far as there to exchange rattan (Malacca cane) and rubber, for tobacco and rice. They had then departed, but the Malay did not know from whence they had come or whither they had gone. He believed that they could not be very far off as a few days before he had distinctly heard their call-whistles.
For various causes I felt obliged to doubt the truth of what the man related, not the least of which being his ill-disguised desire to rid himself of our company as soon as possible.
At day-break we started off again, following an almost untracked path which led us over miasmatic marshes swarming with insects. Our poor legs were attacked by a perfect army of leeches and subjected to a most inopportune and undesirable bleeding. From time to time we were compelled to stop and free ourselves from their tenacious hold. They seemed to prefer European blood to Asiatic and made me suffer more than my escort, perhaps because my skin being more tender they could better succeed in their sanguinary intent, but although my flesh smarted and my strength failed it was necessary to keep cheerful and pretend, every now and then, to recognize our whereabouts just as if I had passed the same way other times. I even assured my five companions that when we reached the Sakais there would be no more difficulties, and so urged them on the faster.
I hoped that the farther we penetrated into the vast wilds around us the more I might depend upon the fidelity of my carriers as they would have to rely upon my supposed knowledge of the country we were entering and so would be less likely to beat a retreat. As we went along, however, I leading the way which. I did not know myself, I could not help noticing that they paid particular attention to every characteristic point we passed, cutting notches in the trees with their parang, or knives, after we had waded through a brook or taken a sudden turn in our course, but my mind was too much occupied with the duties of my self-assumed pilotage for me to attach any importance to the fact.
The weather was fine all day so that we were able to go a long way before night fell. Not having come across any sort of refuge we were obliged to improvise one for ourselves and in about an hour we were resting from our fatigues whilst the little Sam-Sam served us with boiled rice, dried fish and certain capsicums which would have made cayenne pepper seem sugar in comparison! There being nothing better to eat I too had to take my share of the frugal repast.
Sleep soon stole over us all, but I was somehow uneasy, for certain strange demands my companions made me had reminded me of the marks I had seen them making on the trees a while before, and my suspicions were aroused without my knowing exactly how to define them; therefore, with the excuse of writing, I determined to keep watch. Until about four o'clock in the morning I was able to resist the somnolence which weighed down my eyelids but at last, exhausted with so many hours' march, with the high tension to which my nerves had been pitched and weakened by the abundant blood-letting in the swamp, my body triumphed over my will and I also slept.
At dawn the little wild bird, the cep plót, broke the silent air with its characteristic and shrill ci ti rià. To him the smaller and tamer cep riò replied with a sweetly modulated solfeggio of extraordinary precision, and I awoke. At the same time I felt myself being roughly shaken and the voice of my little Sam-Sam cried into my ear:
"Tuan lakas bangun samoa Orang suda lari" (Wake up quickly, sir; the men have all run away)!
Ah, then, my misgivings had not been unfounded and it was Slumber that had betrayed me. I jumped up and looked around. There was nobody to be seen and nothing to be heard. I turned anxiously towards our heap of provisions and discovered instantly that the four rascals had made off with a large booty of my rice, tobacco, and matches, things that were very precious to me at that moment.
What was to be done? Follow them? And if we did not find them? It would be loss of time as well as goods. The only thing to do was to treat the incident with philosophy, comforting myself with the remote hope of some day meeting with the scoundrels and of making them pay dear for their knavish trick. This hope, I may say in parenthesis, was not a vain one, for a year later I met my Chinese culprit at Telok Anson and not long after, his Malay confederate at Penang, on both of which occasions I had the satisfaction—without troubling the legal authority to intercede for or against me—of giving them a lesson in honesty