Stars Over Sarawak (6 page)

 'Thatch,' smiled Roanna, and he showed his teeth in a swift response. He spoke again and she learned that the nipa palm also provided sugar and, when burned, its ashes provided, salt.

 As the distance from the busy coastal plain increased the river scenery changed, deep meanders adding variety.

 Kayun said, watching her expression intently,

 'Yangai wind very much about.'

 'Indeed, yes.'

 'All rivers wind as go into jungle.' He returned his attention to his task, steering towards the bank to avoid a massive tree trunk that floated down the stream. Roanna was soon to discover that these floating trees were a common occurrence along the rivers of Sarawak, and that they quite often caused the boats to capsize. These trees were eventually carried to the mouth of the river where they would build up, thrusting out to sea, and so a swampy spit was born.

 For several miles the river scenery remained the same, with the nipa palms occupying the muddy banks, then the mangroves and other vegetation indigenous to the swamps, and farther back, occupying higher ground, grew the jungle trees. Between these could occasionally be seen a solitary height, its jagged peaks silhouetted against the brittle sky. At times the aspect would become monotonous, at others terrifying.

 'A — a cr-crocodile!' faltered Roanna whose panic-stricken body went cold and taut, as if for one fleeting moment the blood had ceased to flow.

 Kayun laughed heartily.

 'No croc! Another tree!' And adeptly he steered clear of it.

 Roanna sagged, sweeping a hand across her brow to remove the perspiration there. Kayun was still laughing, and telling her that she need not fear crocodiles in this river. She gained the impression that they were to be found farther up, mainly along the affluents, but of this she could not be sure, since Kayun had not on this occasion made his meaning quite clear.

 'Can we stop for some refreshments?' she was asking when on glancing at her watch she realized with a start of surprise that it was almost noon. They had started out very early and she was becoming hungry. Kayun obligingly steered towards a small island in the middle of the river, created by the braiding of the stream. 'This is pretty,' she said appreciatively as he helped her from the boat.

 'Pretty — yes. My girl is pretty.'

 'You have a girl-friend?'

 His eyes lit up.

 'I have had eleven girls,' he told her proudly, 'and they all liked me!'

 Roanna busied herself with the flask, pouring a cup of coffee for Kayun. She offered him sandwiches, which he took, and then she brought out fruit — mandarins, which were very juicy and tart, being a cross between an orange and a grapefruit, the skins always remaining green. Kayun refused these and Roanna brought out a packet of cigarettes. He took one eagerly and she gave him. the packet, along with a box of matches. She had brought several packets of cigarettes as presents for the men of the longhouse, also whisky for the chief and sarongs and sweets for the women.

 'It is pretty,' said Kayun, appearing to like the sound of the word. 'Flowers arc pretty!'

 She turned to look behind her. Through the trees was a clearing and on this bloomed crinums and pancratium lilies, their milky flowers struggling up from a tangle of reeds.

 'I think we had better be on our way.' Roanna was fixing the cap to the flask as she spoke. Kayun took it from her and put it into the basket; this he carried back to the
prahu
.

 'Thank you, Kayun,' she smiled, her eyes flickering over his almost naked body and taking in the splendour of his physique.

 'I thank you, for the cigarettes,' he returned gravely, and held out a hand to assist her back into the boat.

 No sooner had they got started than another prahu came along, manned by two Natives taking durians down to the coast to trade for provisions. Their boat was piled high with this fruit which resembled a huge prickly strawberry. Roanna shuddered, remembering the nauseating smell of this fruit which had up till now deterred her from tasting it, although Malcolm had assured her that its white flesh was very palatable.

 'They come from far up in
ulu
,' Kayun informed her after he and the two men had exchanged a few words of greeting. 'They ask me where I take you, but I not say.'

 'Would it have mattered?'

 'No, I not think it matter, but I not talk.'

 She smiled, her attention soon being arrested by another long boat skimming towards them.

 '
Pelandoks
,' said Kayun, anticipating her question. 'They very good to eat.'

 The
prahu
came abreast; Roanna bit her lip as she saw the little mouse deer, huddled together in the boat. They were brought down alive but, Malcolm had told her, they rarely survived the entire journey, being so timid and frightened that they died of heart failure. And even as she scanned the cargo she saw that some of the pretty little animals were already dead. For the rest of the journey she felt depressed, unable to cast off the vision of those harmless little creatures of the wilds being taken down to the coast where they would be sold as a great delicacy.

 'We are nearly there.' It was after two o'clock when, with a sweep of his hand, Kayun indicated the long wooden building which was their destination. Roanna stared as the
prahu
slid to the bank; the longhouse looked drab, its roof patchy and its verandah appearing to be cluttered up with every variety of rubbish imaginable. There were no clean blankets and four-poster beds in this longhouse, that was for sure.

 'We've taken a long time to get here.' She spoke with a hint of anxiety. In this part of the world light and darkness were of equal duration and therefore night would be down in about four hours' time. However, she had trust in Kayun's getting her back to the coast safely, even though it be very late at night.

 He was securing the boat and a few minutes later she was face to face with the chief, Mabuli, a big-boned man with grizzled sun-baked skin which, on the chest and arms, was intricately tattooed. Hornbill earrings dangled down to his armpits, and in the holes at the tops of his ears were two leopard's teeth. Round his neck he wore rows and rows of beads which — Roanna was to learn later — were very valuable indeed. She herself had on a single row of similar beads which she had bought in the Main Bazaar in Kuching and which Malcolm had declared to be particularly attractive. Roanna had never for one moment thought of them as being worth even what she had paid, much less had she suspected their being of any special value.

 But the fierce-looking chief was staring at them, the fact of his having had his eyebrows shaved off giving him an even more ferocious appearance than his son who, standing beside him, was similarly arrayed with tattoo marks and ornaments, the leopard's teeth in his cars being larger than those of his father; and they were tipped with colour at the ends. Her eyes drawn upwards, Roanna shuddered on noting the 'bunch' of skulls suspended from a wicker frame fixed to the ceiling of the verandah. An uneasiness began to steal over her; she looked over her shoulder for the reassurance of Kayun's lithe young figure. He was speaking to the chief, whose eyes remained fixed on the beads which Roanna wore around her neck.

 Roanna jumped as Kayun's finger touched her arm.

 'Tua Rumah Mabuli angry. You should not have come here.' His voice was greatly troubled; Roanna's heart gave a lurch as she saw his expression. He spoke rapidly to the chief, whose face remained unmoving, as did his eyes. His thin dry lips opened at last and he spoke again, and even to Roanna's inexperienced ear there was an angry repetition of what Mabuli had said before, in reply to what Kayun had first said to him.

 'What is it, Kayun?' she faltered. 'Is something wrong? Why is this man angry?'

 'The beads—' He touched them with his finger and Roanna saw both the chief and his son glare angrily at her. 'They are worth much money, and were stolen from a girl who lived here — a girl the chief give to the white man for the night. The girl now live at longhouse up the river.'

 Roanna looked uncomprehendingly at him.

 'I do not understand,' she said slowly.

 'This man — your man that you come for to look. He was here — long time ago, and as is custom a girl was given him because this is — what do you say—?' He furrowed his brow and fell silent for a space. 'Hospitality — we give girl to man guests.'

 'I see ...' Something shot through her — the sort of sickening sensation which might follow contact with some hideous reptile that had crept up out of the slime. 'My husband was here, then?'

 Kayun nodded.

 'He given feast — because this is custom. Then he given girl — because this is custom also. But this white man rob girl of many treasures. He also take bronzes and jade and other things that these peoples have for — for—' Again he broke off to spend a moment in concentration. 'These people hand down these valuable things, you know.'

 'From generation to generation? Is that what you are trying to say?'

 Kayun brightened.

 'Yes, this is what I try to say.' The clearing of his face was fleeting; within seconds he was frowning heavily as he listened to what the chief had to say. Many other men had gathered around, and women also. Curious children sat in the dirt looking silently at the four people standing there — three Natives and one white woman. Terror was swiftly taking possession of Roanna; she thought of Carl Denver's firm pronouncement that she must not go to a longhouse alone.

 'Kayun,' she trembled, 'what is he saying?'

 The young man seemed most reluctant to enlighten her and she repeated her question.

 'He say that the white man must have given his woman all these treasures—'

 'No, he didn't'. I haven't seen him since he was up here! Tell him, Kayun — make him understand. I bought this necklace in Kuching, in the market. Tell him, quickly!'

 The boy turned again to Mabuli, but even as he was speaking both the chief and his son were shaking their heads. Kayun spoke to Roanna again.

 'I try to tell them, but they say that you are a thief also. They say they wait many long time for revenge on this man, who go off in
prahu
with all treasures that were up in other longhouses—' He stopped talking to thumb upstream. 'Many valuable jars go also and it bring evil on all these longhouses. They have much — much bad luck — much misfortunes because ancestors angry about these things going from these places where they been for many long time.' He paused, his eyes darting sideways to Mabuli. 'You should not have come,' he repeated. 'I try if I can get you away?'

 She nodded urgently, too terrified to speak. Kayun spoke again, but now a low growl went up from the men standing around. Roanna looked out on a host of hostile faces ... and instinctively her eyes lifted again to the skulls hanging from the roof of the verandah.

 'What — what is h-happening—' The ball of fear in her throat came right up and choked her. Every nerve in her body seemed paralysed. 'Have y-you t-told him that I — I b-bought these beads—?'

 'He say you lie.' Kayun stopped as someone spoke from among the group of Native onlookers. 'They say that you have to be the one that revenge is for.'

 White to the lips, Roanna held out both hands to the chief. Her lips moved, but she could not utter words when terror blocked her throat. In any case, he would not have understood. He was speaking, and pointing, rapping out an order which several of the men ran to obey.

 Paralysed, with her legs almost crumbling beneath her, Roanna could only stare while a long boat was pushed from the bank into the water.

 'What are they going to do with me?' She managed to speak at last, in cracked and high-pitched tones.

 'They take you up to other longhouse — very far up—' Kayun thumbed again upstream. 'Mabuli say you be punished instead of white man. He ask
bomoh
what is to do with you.'

 
'Bomoh?'

 'Witch doctor. He say what the spirits want for revenge.'

 'Kayun,' she faltered, 'stay with me. Please stay with me.'

 'I have to stay. Mabuli not let me go back as I bring police.'

 'Police? They'll come up here?'

 'If they know you here, yes. But they not know....' He moved close and spoke while all the commotion of preparing the boat was taking place. 'I try, later, to get away. Then I get police.'

 'It'll be too late,' she cried. 'Kayun, I'm terrified!'

CHAPTER FOUR

GRIPPED by fear for the whole of the long weary journey, Roanna was almost in a state of collapse when at last she and the men with her arrived at their destination, having passed three other longhouses on the way up through the jungle. Darkness had fallen long ago and the black void of the tropical night only added to her terror. She blamed Rolfe over and over again, but. of course she blamed herself as well. She dared not dwell on what was going to happen to her; she felt sure she was going to die some horrible death. Her mind went back again and again to Carl Denver, and she wondered what he would have to say when, some time in the future, her fate was revealed. But perhaps it never would be revealed; perhaps she would be murdered and buried here, deep in the wild jungle of Borneo. She had several times put out a hand to feel Kayun's arm close beside her; he seemed full of strength and tried once, by clasping her hand, to tell her to be brave. Was he afraid — just a little? He seemed not to be, and she did not think his own people would harm him just as they were getting out of the boat he whispered in her ear,

 'When I do not arrive back with the
prahu
they will send police to find us.'

 'It'll be too late,' she whispered again, aware of one of the men scowling at her. 'They'll have killed me.'

 'They not kill,' he said, but then stopped so abruptly that Roanna was sure he had the conviction that they meant to torture her.

 She was to pay for Rolfe's crime, she thought, and in this moment of bitterness she knew she would not have experienced the smallest degree of regret were she to learn that he had in fact come to a violent end.

 They took her and Kayun into the longhouse where she was given a room to herself. Food was brought and nothing more happened that night. On impulse she crept to the door and eased it open. A Native was sitting there and she shut the door again, leaning against it, her heart throbbing so violently that she felt quite sick. For there was a leer on the man's face which seemed to tell its own tale. Where was Kayun? And could he protect her even if he was free to try? But nothing happened; the man, it seemed, was merely there on guard, and if this were on the orders of the chief he would not dare to move.

 The following morning she was given more food, but she had lain awake in heat that was like a warm bath, the perspiration soaking her clothes and her hair, and she desired water for washing more than anything else.

 'Kayun,' she said to the man who brought her the food. 'I want Kayun.'

 'Kayun run off.'

 'You speak English?' she gasped, for the moment too surprised to take in the fact that she was now alone.

 'Little English.'

 'Kayun!' she cried then. 'I want Kayun!'

 'He run off.'

 At last Roanna wept. Putting her head in her hands, she sobbed until her whole body felt weak.

 'Can I have water?' she asked at last, looking up at the man. 'Water — to wash.' To demonstrate she I rubbed her hands together, sobs still shaking her body. 'Water.'

 'I not know.'

 The man went away and for what seemed hours she was left alone. Her watch had stopped and her handbag was missing. She thought that perhaps she had left it in the boat in her terror as the men forced her to get out.

 Could she escape? The thought came when at last she could clear her mind of fear for a moment. To, wander in the jungle would be frightening, no doubt of that, but it would be preferable to staying here, not knowing what her fate was to be. If she could manage to get away from the village she could follow the river and sooner or later a boat must appear. What was Kayun doing? The
prahu
in which he and she had started out had been left at the first longhouse, so if he had gone off he must have taken one belonging to one of the Natives of the village. Somehow she felt sure that he was well on his way downstream and that help would not be long in coming. But a lot could happen in the meantime and she began seriously to dwell on making some effort to escape.

 The door was slightly open, but outside sat a Native, clad only in a loincloth. She could see him, sitting cross-legged, motionless. No possible chance of getting past him. There was a wall opening, but something had been put against it from the outside and try as she would she failed to move it. But she could see out, through the slits in this covering, and as she looked women appeared and began working, and only then did she realize that the ground was utilized for the growing of rice and vegetables. It all looked so peaceful, with the little brown children running to join their mothers or playing together on the edge of the padi field, that it seemed impossible that there could be any evil intent towards her.

 The day dragged on and darkness fell once more: She was given food but no water. The drink she was given, was borak, a wine made from rice and which Roanna detested, having tasted it only once, when she had done so to please Malcolm. A long time after she had been given the food the man who spoke English came to the door.

 '
Bomah
been unwell. Tomorrow he be better and come down from Danggau longhouse to say what will be done to you.' And without waiting to see if she had anything to say he went out, leaving her alone in the darkness again. Outside she could hear the chattering going on on the verandah, and the laughter of children. What sort of rites was this witch doctor going to perform? The very idea of a witch doctor was enough to bring a return of her fear and she tried not to think about it. Tiredness helped and although she strove to keep awake, desiring to remain on the alert, she did eventually succumb to the pull of sleep.

Dawn had broken, but it was a sharp imperious voice that wakened her ... an English voice speaking the Malay language! Roanna shot up from the straw mat and called a name at the top of her voice. It was a miracle! She called again and again,

 'Mr. Denver, Mr. Denver! Oh, Mr. Denver, how did you get here?' He came through the door and she had the greatest difficulty in not falling into his arms. 'I — I—' She burst into violent, hysterical weeping and so weak did her legs become that she would have toppled over had he not caught her, slipping an arm around her to provide support. 'I'm s-so sorry—' She choked to a stop and, responding to a natural instinct, she unashamedly used his chest to weep upon. But she was again apologizing, although she had another little weep afterwards. Carl just held her and through her distraught mind came a feeling of security and reliance she had never before experienced. 'I'm so very sorry,' she said again. 'It w-was s-such a relief to s-see you.' She never thought to ask him how he happened to be here; for the present it was sufficient to know that he had arrived in time to rescue her from whatever hideous fate these people had in store for her.

 Presently he put her from him and as she stared into his set taut face her heart missed a beat. He could save her, she said, a question in her eyes. But his expression underwent no change whatever and her heart missed another beat.

 'You have influence with these people?' she faltered. 'You can explain that I had no hand in those thefts?'

 'They're in an ugly mood,' he said brusquely at last. And after a pause, 'What the hell made you embark on a mission like this when I'd told you not to?'

 'I thought it was safe to visit a longhouse. Others have done it — and you yourself said they were friendly people.'

 'They are — but not to those who repay their hospitality by stealing from them.'

 'But I haven't stolen from them.'

 He looked at the bead necklace she wore.

 'IT was speaking to the chief just before I came in here and it is quite evident that these people believe that you've accepted the stolen jewellery. Kayun explained everything to me—'

 'You've seen Kayun?'

 'That's how I come to be here. I've never travelled so quickly in my life — at least, not on a river.' His voice was crisp; she suspected his anger was high, but he was at least managing to keep it in check, a circumstance for which she was inordinately thankful, since had he rounded on her with a flood of stem censure she would assuredly have burst into another fit of weeping, so taut were her nerves even now, when she felt reasonably safe, despite his statement that the Natives were in an ugly mood.

 'You were already out on your mission?' she said at last, looking up into his face with that smoky cover to her eyes. 'I had no idea it was to be so soon. Malcolm didn't say just when you were going, but somehow I gained the impression that it was to be later than this.'

 Allowing that to pass without comment, Carl went on to explain how, having stopped him on the river, Kayun had then related all that had happened — unaware of course that the two white people were acquainted, but naturally taking it for granted that Carl would lose no time in going to the rescue of one of his own people.

 'You have a lot to thank him for,' Carl Denver went on. 'Had he not raced down the river he wouldn't have met me, as it was my intention to proceed up one of the tributaries back there — the Dajang. You must have noticed the confluence?'

 'Yes.' Roanna paled a little. 'Had you gone up there he'd have missed you ...' She spoke to herself, realizing just how near she had been to missing the help which she was optimistic enough to believe Carl would give her. 'I — I'm very lucky.'

 'You appear to be far too confident of my being able to save you,' he frowned. 'I'm here, and naturally I shall do what I can to get you out of this mess in which your disregard of my advice has landed you, but I'm guaranteeing nothing. As I've already said, these people are in an ugly mood—' He broke off and his frown deepened as a crowd began to gather in the doorway. 'They're awaiting the appearance of the witch-doctor who is still a very important person in the lives of these people. They put great reliance on him and on his methods of discovering what will — and will not — please the spirits.'

 Roanna glanced at the men in the doorway, noting their interested expressions.

 'Are they so superstitious, then?'

 'Incredibly superstitious.'

 'What will the witch-doctor do?'

 'Heaven knows! He'll prepare draughts and consult the birds and take note of other omens.'

 'I expect you'll have some influence, though,' she said confidently, and Carl looked sternly at her.

 'You're far too optimistic,' he snapped. 'You'd not be so calm and collected if you knew just what danger you're in!'

 'I wasn't calm until you came,' she confessed, and the lift of one eyebrow was made to remind her that her recent near-hysteria could scarcely have passed him by and therefore her confession was superfluous. She coloured but, strangely, she was, as Carl had said, optimistic. There was no doubt about it, the very presence of this man had stilled her fears. He seemed so full of strength; his very personality was so forceful that even the witch-doctor must be affected by it. 'Tell me some more about these omens you were mentioning.'

 'You'll find out about them later this morning,' was all he said in answer to this before turning to speak to one of the men in Malay. The man went over to the one who spoke English and a short conversation ensued. 'I can take you out of here,' Carl informed Roanna after the man had conveyed a message in Malay. 'We can walk in the fresh air for a while.'

 'Thank you.' She looked at him with deep gratitude in her eyes. 'The heat's been unbearable.'

 'You'll have found it so after the air-conditioning of the hotel.' He spoke curtly, without expression or — it seemed to Roanna — any measure of interest. He was plainly considering her a nuisance, having hindered him by upsetting his carefully laid plans. As they moved away from the longhouse and its associated smells from the animals and debris underneath the floor of the building, Roanna learnt that, in addition to the boat in which he sailed, Carl had brought another containing provisions, cameras and many instruments necessary in his work on this important expedition into the
ulu
. Two Natives accompanied him, Tangan steering the first boat and Agwai being in the one behind. Both were excellent men who were used to the ways of Carl and who were thoroughly conversant with the dangers which might be encountered both on the rivers and in the jungle.

 'How long do you reckon to be away?' she asked as they walked along the river bank, under a ceiling of intertwined jungle trees. Behind them, at a short distance, came one of the Native men carrying a parang in his hand. Roanna, having turned her head and noticed him, gave a shudder as her eyes lit on the evil-looking knife. At one time parangs were used for securing the skull trophies.

 'For the whole duration of my holiday,' replied Carl, an edge to his voice. 'I'd hoped to put in about five weeks' work.'

 She bit her lip.

 'I'm sorry,' she began, then stopped at the sharp glance he shot at her.

 'Apologies aren't much good at this stage,' he said impatiently. 'You should have heeded my advice.'

 'Yes, I do realize that now,' she owned dismally, and to her surprise Carl Denver gave her a slow smile.

 'Scared?' he inquired, masculine contempt in his eyes. Here, she thought, was proof and enough of what he felt about females who plunged impulsively into action without due consideration of the possible consequences.

 Roanna looked up into his tough lean face and said frankly,

 'I was paralysed with fear, Mr. Denver. I imagined all sort of horrible tortures — or even death.'