“now are you ready to start?”
with this question, edward van rheijn came rushing into van nerekool’s room on saturday afternoon.
“yes, i am quite ready,” answered his friend; “but how about horses?”
“oh! verstork has taken good care of that,” was van rheijn’s reply, “if you will let me send out your servant for a few moments you will have them prancing at the door in less than ten minutes.”
the young men had not long to wait, for they had scarcely time to drink a glass of beer and light a cigar, before two excellent saddle horses made their appearance. they were well-bred makassars, not so perfect in shape, and handsome to look at as kadoe?rs or battakers; but good serviceable animals with broad, well made chests, indicating both strength and endurance, and provided with good sinewy legs which, if not particularly symmetrical, were strong and fit for hard work.
in a twinkling, the young men were in the saddle.
“and now, your rifle?” said edward.
“sidin, give me the gun,” said van nerekool to his servant.
the man handed to his master the splendid rifle which, at his request, the regent of santjoemeh had lent to the judicial functionary.
charles slung the weapon by the strap over his shoulder, put a couple of revolvers into his holsters; so that, as far as arms went, he was almost as well off as his friend van rheijn. a few moments later, the pair had left santjoemeh, and at a brisk trot were riding eastward in the direction of banjoe pahit, which was their destination.
they did not talk much by the way, in fact only a word now and then passed between them. there was indeed no very great inducement to conversation; for, though the road they were following was fairly well shaded by tamarind and kanan trees, yet the tropical heat was most oppressive, and would not much decrease until the sun was nearing the horizon. but it was only three in the afternoon, so that the orb of day was still far from the end of his journey. [151]
the horses, however, were high-mettled and indefatigable and kept up a good pace, at a trot where the road was level, and breaking into a gallop, when it ran up hill. the noble animals very seldom required to be pulled up to a walk, and could not long be kept to that pace to which they were but little accustomed. moreover, the scenery through which the two friends were passing might well, in every sense of the word, be called enchanting. first their road lay through pleasant looking dessas, whose dark roofs of atap-leaves and golden yellow fences, formed a most agreeable prospect in the midst of the dark foliage of the fruit trees which completely overshadowed them. next came plantations of cocoa-nut trees where the slender palms planted in regular rows, lifted up high in the air their waving plume-like tops, and cast curious ever-changing shadows on the turf which covered the ground. further on still, as squares on a vast chess-board, were seen the extensive rice-fields, the dikes or mounds which bounded them richly overgrown with grass or shaded by toeri or klampies bushes showing quite distinctly, while the rice-fields themselves lay, at this time of the year, glittering in the sunlight, like so many huge water-tanks; for after harvest they are flooded, and then present an aspect of molten silver enclosed in frames of bright green. then behind the rice-fields arose the stately mountains which densely covered with virgin forest, formed a deep band of dark-green around the glittering squares. further on again, in the far distance, all became indistinct, and assumed a uniform deep purple hue which contrasted sharply and most beautifully with the light azure of the sky above. now and then, after the horses had had a long stiff gallop up a more than usually steep slope, they would require a few minutes’ rest; then the riders upon looking back, caught glimpses of the java sea which lay on the horizon, shining under the sun’s beams like a boundless mirror on which the white sails of the ships appeared as hovering sea-gulls, or the thick smoke from some steamer’s funnel curled darkly over the watery expanse.
thus, our young friends had but little time to notice the intensity of the heat. their’s was still that happy time of life in which man is most capable of enjoying all that is grand and beautiful. both of them also were of a somewhat poetical nature, and the ever-varying scenery which to the right and to the left lay stretched out before them, could not fail to captivate and charm them by its sublimity and its beauty. time had indeed flown with them, when, in the neighbourhood of a small [152]dessa called kalimatti, they caught sight, in the distance, of four gentlemen, followed by a numerous escort all mounted and spurring on to meet them.
“hurrah!” cried van rheijn, “there is william verstork. look, charles, that man yonder on the fine iron-grey riding at the head of the party!”
“who are those with him?” asked van nerekool—“why if my eyes don’t deceive me—they are august van beneden, leendert grashuis, theodoor grenits and—by heaven—yes, fritz mokesuep also!”
“you are right!” shouted his companion, “and escorted by the wedono, the djoeroetoelies, the loerah, the kebajan, the kamitoewag, the tjank (native chiefs) good heavens!—by all the district and dessa-grandees of banjoe pahit and their whole suite! and,” he continued, as he drew nearer, “upon my word all in full dress on their little horses, with tiger-skin saddle-cloths and richly embroidered red velvet or cloth saddles. hurrah, capital fun!” cried edward van rheijn, greatly excited as he waved his pith helmet to the advancing troop.
“hurrah, hurrah!” shouted the others gleefully, and soon the group of horsemen had joined the two friends and greetings and welcomes were warmly exchanged.
“you seem to be out of spirits, charles,” said verstork to van nerekool as he shook his hand; “what is the matter with you, old fellow—i hope you are not ill?”
“no, thank you,” replied the other, “i am perfectly well. i will tell you by-and-by what ails me.”
“mr. van nerekool is suffering perhaps from the effects of a refusal,” remarked one of the young fellows who had accompanied verstork.
the controller cast a look at his friend and noticed at once that the random and heedless shaft had struck home. he therefore at once changed the conversation and said, “if you are not unwell then let us forward to banjoe pahit.”
“gentlemen,” he cried, “by threes trot!” and a moment after he gave the word “gallop!” just like some old cavalry officer.
there was no need of the spur,—the fiery horses at once dashed forward, and away went the little band of friends galloping down the avenue which lay stretched out before them, and which, with its soft carpet of turf, hardly gave out a sound under the horses’ hoofs. [153]
“capital road this,” cried one of the company. “it speaks highly for the care the controller takes of his district!”
william verstork gave him an approving nod, he was evidently by no means insensible to the compliment.
“good means of communication, my friend, are the highways to prosperity,” replied he sententiously.
“no doubt,” observed another with a scornful smile, “if the population is allowed to make use of them!”
behind the party of european horsemen, at the distance prescribed by etiquette, followed the native chiefs with their retinue. they were all mounted on spirited little horses of pure native breed, which were quite able to keep up with the pace of the others, and might perhaps, in a long journey, have outstayed them.
now, while this cavalcade is rapidly moving on to banjoe pahit, we will seize the opportunity of making a slight acquaintance with the companions verstork had brought with him. we will do this in as few words as possible, as some of them, at least, are only casually connected with this narrative.
augustus van beneden was a native of gelderland, a fine healthy looking fellow of about twenty, whose yellow curly hair and firm, yet open countenance were characteristic of the inhabitants of the betuwe. he was a barrister by profession, and had lately settled down in santjoemeh where he was beginning to get a fairly good practice.
leendert grashuis, a south-hollander, held the position of deputy surveyor at the land registry office of santjoemeh. he was an excellent mathematician, and had greatly distinguished himself in the geodetic and geomorphic sciences. as surveying engineer, his services were invaluable in all questions which had to do with the fixing of the boundaries of property in the residence. when he entered upon his duties, he found the whole matter of boundaries in the most utter confusion—a confusion, which became only worse confounded, when, in settling disputes about real property, the official maps had to be produced and appealed to. when called upon to give his decision, leendert grashuis always was on the side of right and equity, and offered the most determined opposition to all manner of rapacity or exaction, even should it happen to be the government itself which made the encroachment. he was about seven and twenty years of age, and upon his agreeable exterior, good-nature and perfect sincerity were so plainly stamped, that he was a universal favourite with all who had the privilege of knowing him. [154]
theodoor grenits also, was a man of a similar nature. he was a native of limburg, and, in his intercourse with his neighbours the belgians, had acquired a good deal of the free and easy manner of that nation. he, therefore, was more especially in request in company where youth and pleasure presided. he had received his early education at the athen?um at maastricht, and had then gone to leyden to complete his legal studies. but in these studies, he had most signally failed. now he was employed in a merchant’s office, and was striving, by strict attention to his work and by diligence, to make up, in a mercantile career, for the time he had wasted at the university. but, though no great student, he also was a right noble and honest young fellow, and in thorough sympathy with the company in which we just now have met him.
fritz mokesuep, however, was a man of totally different stamp, and was in every way the very opposite of the others. he was about thirty years old and was a clerk in the revenue office at santjoemeh. education he had none; for at a very early age his father had placed him in the office of a tax-collector in a small provincial town in holland. this want of education necessarily closed to him the prospect of rising in the social scale, which, however, he was very ambitious of doing. an opportunity had offered, which he thought would enable him to attain his object. the colonial secretary, having need of the services of men acquainted with certain special branches in the collection of the revenue which were at that time badly managed in dutch india, offered to send out thither a certain number of men thus specially qualified, without demanding any further examination whatever. of this offer mokesuep had taken advantage, in the hope that adroitness and suppleness of spirit might, in those far-away possessions, supply for him the place of more solid attainments. in this hope, however, he was doomed to be disappointed, for, having on his arrival in batavia, been placed as third clerk in the department of finance, he had very soon given abundant evidence of the exceeding narrowness of his views and abilities; and thus he was packed off to santjoemeh in the capacity which he was now still occupying there, and which bid fair to be his “baton de maréchal.” he was literally a “tax-collector” in the least favourable sense of the word; and, upon his naturally depraved character, the very nature of his office had had a still more depraving effect. he was artful, cunning, hypocritical, and thoroughly false by nature. his only pleasure [155]in the world was to scrape and to hoard, and he scrupled not to employ any means, even lying and cheating, to gratify his passion. this grasping instinct of his came out, of course, most strongly in his mode of collecting the taxes; and the narrowness of his mind showed itself in the petty annoyances with which he was perpetually plaguing all those with whom he came into official contact. his greatest enjoyment was in extorting the last half-cent though he would never protect anyone against demands however excessive. on the contrary, the indian government might safely reckon upon his co-operation, whenever money had to be squeezed out, even though it might be by means the most arbitrary and the most unjust. his outward appearance, was entirely in harmony with his character. his head was small, gradually growing narrower towards the top, and was sparsely covered with chestnut hair, which he wore plastered against the temples, in two elegant curls by means of bandoline, gum, starch, fishlime, or some such abomination. his face was long and angular, and wore that faded yellow look which sometimes, a towel will assume when allowed to lie for a long time unused, in a drawer or cupboard. his nose was well-formed and sharp; but with the projecting lips of his small mouth, it formed a profile something between that of a baboon and a ferret—at all events, it plainly enough indicated that he belonged to the family of the rodentia. that was the reason, perhaps, why he was familiarly called muizenkop (mouse-head). not a vestige of hair or down appeared on his chin or lip—in fact a jesuit father might have envied him his sallow faded complexion. how could a man like william verstork have ever admitted such a fellow into his company? the reason was obvious. mokesuep was the strict letter of fiscal regulations incarnate, and as the controller wanted to have as little as possible to do with the narrow minded quibblings of the financial department, he had attached this man to his staff, who, if he did not always give him the best advice with regard to excise questions, at all events protected him against unpleasant remarks.
while the reader has been occupying himself with these very slight personal sketches, the cavalcade had traversed the distance which lay between the dessas kalimatti and banjoe pahit, and now was just entering the latter place.
banjoe pahit, a large dessa, pleasantly situated in a mountainous part of the island had, on that afternoon, in honour of its expected guests, donned its festive attire. on all sides the [156]inhabitants appeared out of doors, even the women and children all in their very best apparel which they generally wore only on fridays. at the flag-staff, which stood in the grounds of the controller’s quarters, a brand-new dutch flag was flying. the wedono, the loerah, and other principal men of the dessa—aye, even the public vaccinator and the mohammedan priest had followed that example, and expressed their zeal on this occasion, and their goodwill, by hoisting the tricolor by the side of their houses on the bamboo pole from which usually a dovecote used to dangle. the cymbals also were sounding merrily, and imparted to the demonstrations of the inhabitants, who all had turned out to welcome the strange gentlemen, a very characteristic and local stamp.
“upon my word,” cried edward van rheijn, once again, “capital fun—our controller is giving us a grand reception—that is a good beginning.”
“i have no hand, whatever, in that fun,” replied verstork. “the people are rejoicing because you have come to rid them of the swarms of tjellings, which ravage their fields to a frightful extent. you will see how enthusiastically they will turn out to-morrow to help us in beating up the game.”
the cavalcade had now entered the grounds, in which stood the controller’s house, and the riders were dismounting.
“gentlemen,” said verstork addressing van nerekool and van rheijn, “i bid you welcome to my poor dwelling.” and then more generally to the company, he said: “we shall take a few minutes to make ourselves comfortable after our hot ride, and have a bath, and then it will be time to sit down to dinner.”
“so early as this?” asked one of the guests.
“to be sure,” replied verstork, “for after we have had something to eat—which meal you must take as a hunter’s dinner, substantial but short—we shall have to get into the saddle again, to make a reconnaissance at the djoerang pringapoes, for we must settle before sunset where our battue will have to start from, and where we shall have to post ourselves and lie in wait for the animals.”
“but we shall have the moon to-night, shall we not?” enquired van rheijn. “i even fancy that it is full moon.”
“you are quite right,” said verstork, “and we shall need it, too, on our ride home. believe me, our arrangements will take up some considerable time; and then we shall all have to turn in early, because to-morrow by daybreak we must be at our posts in the djoerang, and begin work.” [157]
then turning to two of the javanese chiefs, who had followed the party into the grounds, he continued: “wedono and you loerah, you will both, i hope, presently, ride with us to the djoerah?”
“yes, kandjeng toean,” was their reply.
“thanks; you will stay to dinner?”
but, in the most courteous manner possible, both the javanese begged to be excused;—they had some business to transact at home—at the time appointed, however, they would be quite ready to start.
they did not say—which was indeed the reason of their refusal—that they feared that among the viands pork might be included, or that some of the dishes might be prepared with lard or some other ingredient derived from the accursed and unclean beast.
the sun had just set, when the sportsmen had finished their survey of the principal approaches to the djoerang pringapoes, and had made all the necessary arrangements with the two loerahs of banjoe pahit and of kaligaweh, for placing the marksmen, and other matters pertaining to the morrow’s sport.
they happened to be just then in the lower part of the djoerang, where a small stream, which runs right through the ravine, flows down over its rocky bed, forming a series of small cataracts and eddies which contribute to make the landscape, already a beautiful one, the most picturesque spot in the whole residence of santjoemeh.
a few hundred yards off, in the rice-plain, lay the dessa kaligaweh, bathed in all the wondrous tints with which the setting sun coloured the evening sky, and cast its reflection in the waters of the rice-fields which, here, were flooded as elsewhere. with its trees, its palms, its bamboos, its orchards, which almost entirely embosomed the little yellow-fenced huts, that little dessa casting its image upon the watery mirror, formed a scene of such magic beauty that the europeans could not tear themselves from so lovely a view. nor until the glorious tints began slowly to fade away before the rising moon, could they make up their minds to turn homeward.
they were just saying good-bye to the loerah of kaligaweh, and were impressing upon him the necessity of bringing up his people early next morning, and were turning their horses’ heads and preparing for a sharp gallop back to banjoe pahit when—[158]suddenly in the direction of the last named dessa, there was heard a frightful tumult. all started and stood still, and listened in the utmost astonishment. the yelling and screaming continued, and then amidst the confused noise made by the shrieks of women and children, the dreadful word, “amokh, amokh!” (murder) was distinctly heard.
“what on earth can all this mean, loerah?” cried verstork to the chief of the dessa who was still by his side.
“i don’t know, kandjeng toean,” replied he; “but i will ride off at once and find out.”
“wait a bit,” cried another, “here comes a policeman running like mad.”
so it was; panting and almost completely out of breath one of those canaries (so called from their yellow braided uniforms) came running up along a pathway which led across the sawah-fields to the djoerang pringapoes. as soon as he got up to the group of horsemen he squatted down by the controller’s horse and made the sembah.
“kandjeng toean,” he panted, “they are running amokh in the dessa yonder. one bandoelan has been already krissed and a policeman severely wounded.”
“who is running amokh?” cried verstork.
“i don’t know, kandjeng toean,” replied the man. “women and children are flying about yelling and screaming and i hurried off at once to fetch the loerah; but as i ran along i heard that setrosmito is the murderer.”
“setrosmito!” exclaimed verstork in utter amazement. “what, old setrosmito? quite impossible; is it not, loerah?”
“no, kandjeng toean,” was the chief’s reply.
“but the man is much too quiet a fellow for that,” continued the controller. “moreover, he is not given to opium smoking, is he?”
“no kandjeng toean,” was the cautious reply.
the screaming still continued, and though it was already growing dusk, people could be distinctly seen running about wildly in the dessa.
“come, gentlemen,” said verstork to his friends, “my presence is required yonder. will you come with me? if we make haste we can get there in a minute or two.”
“all right,” cried the young men with one voice; “lead on, we follow you.”
there was but one of the little party who ventured to ask: “is it quite safe, do you think?” [159]
that man was mokesuep; but his objection was lost to the others. they had already followed verstork’s example, and digging their spurs in their horses’ flanks were tearing along the road to kaligaweh.
mokesuep had not, however, made up his mind. he was not quite so rash as that. dreadful tales of “amokh runners” were crossing his brain. for a moment or two he stood irresolute not well knowing what he had better do; but just then the shrieks redoubled while the gongs were beaten furiously. that was quite enough for him. thought he to himself: “in such cases it is most prudent to take care and keep a whole skin.” so he turned his horse, gave it the spurs and galloped off to banjoe pahit instead of to kaligaweh.
as they were riding to kaligaweh, verstork thought it well to caution his friends by telling them that in cases of amokh running the thing is to be on one’s guard, and that fear and panic only serve to make matters worse and increase the danger. “at all events,” said he, “keep your revolvers ready.”
his caution was, however, not needed. when the horsemen came racing into the dessa they met a few frightened women clasping their little ones to their breast as if to protect them; but all the men were standing with lance or kris in hand drawn up around a little hut which was closed, and about which there was nothing in any way remarkable.
“if he comes out we must catch him on our lances,” was the cry.
“what is all this confusion about?” cried verstork, leaping from his horse, throwing the bridle to one of the bystanders, and stepping into the ring.
“setrosmito has been running amokh,” was the reply from all sides.
“setrosmito, how is it possible?” muttered the controller, inaudibly.
but scarcely had he uttered the words, before the door of the cabin flew open and setrosmito appeared on the threshold.
he was an elderly man with grizzly hair which was flying in wild confusion about his head. his jacket was torn to ribbons and a few shreds of it only hung from one of his arms. his face, breast and hands were smeared with blood, so that the poor wretch looked a hideous object.
“there he is, there he is,” shouted the mob. “now look out!”
every lance-point was at once thrown forward in anticipation of a mad rush. [160]
“i don’t wish to hurt anybody,” cried setrosmito, to his fellows of the dessa. “but let no one come near me to lay a hand on me; the first that touches me is a dead man!”
with so frantic a gesture did he wave his kris, and so ghastly did he look in his frenzy, that the crowd rushed back in dismay. thus verstork, who the instant before had stood lost in the press, now found himself standing in the foreground.
no sooner, however, had the unfortunate javanese caught sight of the white man than he cried out in piteous tones.
“pardon, kandjeng toean, pardon,” and hurling his kris from him he flung himself at the controller’s feet. “pardon, pardon, kandjeng toean!” he cried again and again.
all this had passed with lightning rapidity—so quickly, indeed, that the bystanders scarcely knew what was going on. when the man besmeared with blood had advanced towards the controller, many thought that the latter’s life was in danger. his friends, revolver in hand, rushed forward to protect him, the natives also were springing forward to despatch the now defenceless murderer. but verstork calmly stopped them, put the foremost back with his hand, and restrained the others by crying out in a tone of command:
“back, all of you! keep back from the man. do you hear?”
and going up to the crouching wretch, who was still crying in an imploring tone of voice “pardon, kandjeng toean,” he said:
“have you been running amokh, setrosmito?”
“sir,” cried the latter, “i have killed a bandoelan who was acting disgracefully towards my child. yes, i have done that. i have also wounded a policeman who was helping him in it. who would have protected my child if i had not done so? but i have harmed no one else. the whole dessa will tell you so!”
verstork looked towards the crowd.
all stood breathless around; not a word of protest was spoken.
“you confess to having killed a bandoelan and wounded an officer?” asked verstork, sternly.
“yes, kandjeng toean,” said the poor javanese, almost inaudibly.
“wedono,” said verstork, “have this man bound.”
“pardon, kandjeng toean, pardon!” cried the wretched man, [161]when he heard the order. “pardon! i have only protected my daughter from disgusting ill-treatment.”
“you have resisted the authorities, nobody has a right to do that,” replied the controller in a firm and impressive voice. “but, setrosmito,” he continued, “the matter will be investigated by the proper tribunal, and if, as you say, your child has suffered ill-usage—no doubt that will be taken into consideration, and your punishment will be lessened accordingly.”
a dull murmur arose in the crowd. they knew by sad experience what kind of justice they might expect from the white man when there was opium in the question. a bitter smile was on every countenance, and many a curse was muttered against that unmerciful race which holds sway over java and sucks its very life’s blood. now that the people began to see that they had to do—not with a wild amokh runner who murdered indiscriminately but—with a father who had merely protected his child from outrage, the feelings of the crowd instantly changed and not a man or woman in the dessa but pitied the wretched criminal. but a single commanding look from the controller and one wave of the wedono’s hand sufficed to repress every sign of displeasure.
“wedono,” said verstork, “you will have that man carefully guarded—you and the loerah will be answerable for him; and you will further see that to-morrow morning early, he is taken under properly armed escort to santjoemeh.”
“pardon, kandjeng toean,” again groaned the unhappy father, as the people of the dessa helped to tie his arms.
“the ‘higher court’ must decide the matter, setrosmito,” said verstork, “i may and i can do no more than my duty.”
