The Next
Day The Praus Returned, And We Had Positive Information That
These Scourges Of The Eastern Seas Were Really Among Us.
One of
Herr Warzbergen's small praus also arrived in a sad plight.
It
had been attacked six days before, just as it was returning, from
the "blakang tana." The crew escaped in their small boat and hid
in the jungle, while the pirates came up and plundered the
vessel. They took away everything but the cargo of mother-of-
pearl shell, which was too bulky for them. All the clothes and
boxes of the men, and the sails and cordage of the prau, were
cleared off. They had four large war boats, and fired a volley of
musketry as they came up, and sent off their small boats to the
attack. After they had left, our men observed from their
concealment that three had stayed behind with a small boat; and
being driven to desperation by the sight of the plundering, one
brave fellow swam off armed only with his parang, or chopping-
knife, and coming on them unawares made a desperate attack,
killing one and wounding the other two, receiving himself numbers
of slight wounds, and then swimming off again when almost
exhausted. Two other prams were also plundered, and the crew of
one of them murdered to a man. They are said to be Sooloo
pirates, but have Bugis among them. On their way here they have
devastated one of the small islands east of Ceram. It is now
eleven years since they have visited Aru, and by thus making
their attacks at long and uncertain intervals the alarm dies
away, and they find a population for the most part unarmed and
unsuspicious of danger. None of the small trading vessels now
carry arms, though they did so for a year or two after the last
attack, which was just the time when there was the least occasion
for it. A week later one of the smaller pirate boats was captured
in the "blakang tana." Seven men were killed and three taken
prisoners. The larger vessels have been often seen but cannot be
caught, as they have very strong crews, and can always escape by
rowing out to sea in the eye of the wind, returning at night.
They will thus remain among the innumerable islands and channels,
till the change of the monsoon enables them to sail westward.
March 9th.-For four or five days we have had a continual gale of
wind, with occasional gusts of great fury, which seem as if they
would send Dobbo into the sea. Rain accompanies it almost every
alternate hour, so that it is not a pleasant time. During such
weather I can do little, but am busy getting ready a boat I have
purchased, for an excursion into the interior. There is immense
difficulty about men, but I believe the "Orang-kaya," or head man
of Wamma, will accompany me to see that I don't run into danger.
Having become quite an old inhabitant of Dobbo, I will endeavour
to sketch the sights and sounds that pervade it, and the manners
and customs of its inhabitants. The place is now pretty full, and
the streets present a far more cheerful aspect than when we first
arrived. Every house is a store, where the natives barter their
produce for what they are most in need of. Knives, choppers,
swords, guns, tobacco, gambier, plates, basins, handkerchiefs,
sarongs, calicoes, and arrack, are the principal articles wanted
by the natives; but some of the stores contain also tea, coffee,
sugar, wine, biscuits, &c., for the supply of the traders; and
others are full of fancy goods, china ornaments, looking-glasses,
razors, umbrellas, pipes, and purses, which take the fancy of the
wealthier natives. Every fine day mats are spread before the
doors and the tripang is put out to dry, as well as sugar, salt,
biscuit, tea, cloths, and other things that get injured by an
excessively moist atmosphere. In the morning and evening, spruce
Chinamen stroll about or chat at each other's doors, in blue
trousers, white jacket, and a queue into which red silk is
plaited till it reaches almost to their heels. An old Bugis hadji
regularly takes an evening stroll in all the dignity of flowing
green silk robe and gay turban, followed by two small boys
carrying his sirih and betel boxes.
In every vacant space new houses are being built, and all sorts
of odd little cooking-sheds are erected against the old ones,
while in some out-of-the-way corners, massive log pigsties are
tenanted by growing porkers; for how can the Chinamen exist six
months without one feast of pig?
Here and there are stalls where bananas are sold, and every
morning two little boys go about with trays of sweet rice and
crated cocoa-nut, fried fish, or fried plantains; and whichever
it may be, they have but one cry, and that is
"Chocolat-t - t!" This must be a Spanish or Portuguese cry, handed
down for centuries, while its meaning has been lost. The Bugis
sailors, while hoisting the main sail, cry out, "Vela a vela, -
vela, vela, vela!" repeated in an everlasting chorus. As "vela"
is Portuguese a sail, I supposed I had discovered the origin of
this, but I found afterwards they used the same cry when heaving
anchor, and often chanted it to "hela," which is so much an
universal expression of exertion and hard breathing that it is
most probably a mere interjectional cry.
I daresay there are now near five hundred people in Dobbo of
various races, all met in this remote corner of the East, as they
express it, "to look for their fortune;" to get money any way
they can. They are most of them people who have the very worst
reputation for honesty as well as every other form of morality, -
Chinese, Bugis, Ceramese, and half-caste Javanese, with a
sprinkling of half-wild Papuans from Timor, Babber, and other
islands, yet all goes on as yet very quietly.
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