From Jungle to Java Part 4

THE QUEST CONTINUED--TJILATj.a.p.

Tjilatj.a.p was reached at midday. The town had an imposing appearance, all the streets being planted with avenues of large trees. X. drove at once to the hotel, where he was given a room like a horse-box with the sun streaming into it. As mentioned above, he subsequently ascertained that his travelling companion had managed to secure the only decent room in the hotel, and X. did not feel any love for the stranger, who had taken what he felt to be an unfair advantage of his local innocence. He only wished he could hand him over to the tender mercies of the most muscular and irritable member of the civil service, after relating how he had libelled it. There was lunch lying ready spread on the table and its appearance was satisfactory. Next day he noticed that this meal was laid hot at 9.30 daily, and left cooling until far on in the afternoon.

Being hungry, the distant view of the table looked inviting, and X.

prepared for a hearty meal. But his joyful expectation gave way to something like disgust on discovering, what a nearer approach revealed, that each article of food was firmly congealed in its own gravy. But no one else seemed to mind, and a party opposite--father, mother and daughter--ate of these provisions as though they were delicacies hot from the kitchen of the Savoy or Bignon's. Strolling out a little later to smoke a cigarette and try to persuade himself he had lunched, the visitor spied the proprietor of the hotel, his family and some favoured guests, enjoying cakes, and what appeared to be Madeira, and fruit in the verandah. As sleep in that sunbaked oven of a room was impossible, the traveller sent for a carriage and went for a drive. The appearance of all the houses that he pa.s.sed gave the idea that every one inside them was asleep, but their stillness was counterbalanced by the busy crowds of natives going to and fro along those avenues of wonderful trees.

Later in the day X. sallied forth to call on the a.s.sistant Resident. He had been informed at the hotel that this official was not visible between the hours of 11 a.m. and 7 p.m.--rather a long period of retirement.

As it was growing dark X. walked up to the house, a far superior residence to the one at Garvet. The lady of the house and her family were starting for the evening drive, not daring to venture out before this late hour. The a.s.sistant Resident, apparently a very young man, received his visitor with great cordiality and gave him all the information in his power, promising his a.s.sistance if he wished to go further up country. It should be stated that, arrived at Tjilatj.a.p, Usoof's memory received a filip, and he recollected that the town of Jombong, not far off, had been the chief place near his "kampong." On hearing this, the a.s.sistant Resident promised to send a letter to the Wodena or native magistrate of the village, who lived at Soempioet and could let him stay in his house. This exactly met the wishes of X., who had been only wanting an opportunity to see more of the native life in Java, away from the track of hotels and tame curio sellers, who differed but little in one town from another. While the traveller was paying this call, another visitor arrived. This was no less a personage than the President of the Landraad. After they had left, he hospitably invited the Englishman into the club, where they played billiards. The great man made himself most agreeable and was quite ready to impart to his companion all he might wish to hear about the duties of the local government officers. He learnt that the a.s.sistant Resident exercised a very limited jurisdiction as magistrate, and all cases, excepting the most trivial, are brought before the Landraad. The post held by this cheery official was evidently most congenial, and he explained with much satisfaction how he had to be frequently travelling, and what a liberal allowance he could draw while doing so. It need be liberal, thought his hearer, to compensate for a course of feeding in Java hotels. But sympathy on this point was wasted, as the President of the Landraad alluded to the one, at which it appeared they were both staying, and spoke of it as comfortable. Billiards over, it was time to return to the hotel for dinner. This meal, probably more owing to the lamp-light than to any inherent superiority, seemed an improvement on the last one, had not the diners made it unnecessarily uncomfortable by treating it as though it were a hurried snack at the counter of a railway refreshment room. For instance, three or four times during the progress of the meal callers came to see the courteous President, who cheerfully left the table to interview them, returning with equanimity to the discussion of the chilled dishes at whatever stage of the feast he chanced on when he returned. The table was not cleared away after the sorry farce of dinner was over, and X. noticed, as late as ten and even half-past ten o'clock, late diners strolling in to feed on the ever less appetising remains. X.

recalled the words of his companion in the train, and thought he at least had some justification for his remarks on the digestions, or the want of them, of his fellow-countrymen in Java.

The chief thing for intending travellers in Java to recollect is the difficulty of obtaining money, since no one will look at a cheque, as people in that country do not use them. It is necessary, therefore, to take ready money and rely upon periodical remittances sent by registered letter from the bank. At Garvet X. had his first experience of pecuniary trouble through having placed confidence in his cheque book, backed by the special permit signed by the Governor General of the Netherlands India. He had invested in some Java ponies and thus outrun all calculations as to expenditure. The hotel people would not look at his cheque, though they certainly looked at the owner of it with the careful scrutiny born of suspicion. Very troubled, he had called at all the chief shops and places of business in the town asking a.s.sistance, and a.s.suring merchants of his _bona fides_, as they scanned his cheque and pa.s.sed it from one to another as a curiosity such as none of them had ever seen before. At length good fortune appeared in the shape of a Mr.

Schmidt. One of those who had endeavoured to grasp some meaning from the cheque, explained that he believed this kind of thing was seen in Europe, and they had better call Mr. Schmidt, who not only had been there within the last two years, but also spoke a little English. X.

eagerly seconded the suggestion, and Mr. Schmidt appeared. His verdict was anxiously awaited, but especially by the owner of the cheque, whose future movements must depend on the decision, and his relief was great when the good, the discerning, the up-to-date Mr. Schmidt p.r.o.nounced in his favour. He declared that, certainly he had seen such cheques before, and generously offered to cash it himself. Thus the situation was saved, and the stranger was able to carry out his arrangements and pay his debts. Good Mr. Schmidt! that stranger remembers you with grat.i.tude.

Here, in Tjilatj.a.p, X. was again threatened with penury, for, though he had telegraphed for money, the little registered packet had so far not appeared. Perhaps his bankers could not really credit that he had gone to a place with such a reputation as Tjilatj.a.p. But it was because of this reputation that X. was unwilling to prolong his stay there beyond what was actually necessary, and, therefore, sending off the Malays with the luggage, remained behind, relying upon the arrival of the money by the morning post. He utilised the opportunity of this enforced stay to visit the hospital. The hospitals in the Native States of the Peninsula are perhaps the chief signs of the civilization, of which their Government may be proud, seeing that in them natives of all nationalities are splendidly housed and have the best of medical attendance free. It was, therefore, interesting for the Englishman who hailed from that Peninsula to see how, in a large town like Tjilatj.a.p in Java, these things were done.

He had the good fortune to be most courteously shown over the building by the doctor in charge. It was somewhat of a surprise to find that there were few patients in the hospital, notwithstanding the reputation of the place for fever, and to learn that the average number of sick amongst the natives was not noticeably in excess of other towns.

The whole building was a picture of neatness and cleanliness. The walls were made of bertam (a kind of plaited reed) so as to be easily destroyed and replaced in case of infection. The floors were of cement and raised off the ground. This hospital has only been started two years, and, at the present time, possesses fifty beds. The bathing places in particular merited attention, the floors being tiled, while large tanks of brick and cement contained the water supply--baths are provided for feeble patients. The most elaborate building was the dead-house, where all the latest improvements were to be seen. There was, and is, a European ward where patients can be treated for three guilders a day. Another building, standing a little apart, was for Europeans of a better cla.s.s who could afford to pay six guilders a-day, "but," the doctor added, "they never come." The hospital is free for all natives, and, contrary to what is frequently the case elsewhere, the authorities seem to experience no difficulty in inducing them to go there. The doctor has one a.s.sistant to help him in managing the hospital. He spoke very highly of the native dressers, and said that they frequently turn out well. To X., accustomed to see similar hospitals crowded with Chinese, it was curious only to find one in the whole hospital, and he was the cook.

After his visit to the hospital the traveller went to the post office to ask if his registered letter had come, and was considerably depressed to find that, though the post had arrived, there was no letter by it for him. There was nothing to be done but to accept the information and return to the hotel and think it out. He was alone--servants and luggage had gone, and some ten guilders of money only remained. Where could he find a local Schmidt. The landlord suggested that perhaps the people at the Factory might change his cheque. X. was not certain, but believed the Factory to be the name for the offices of the chief trading firm in Java. Acting on this advice, he took a carriage and drove there. The haughty young gentleman who presided behind the counter received him suspiciously, and at once disdainfully and very firmly refused to have anything to do with the cheque, which he turned over and over in his fingers as though it might bite him, and then returned to its owner.

Bowed out and baffled, the traveller returned to his hotel. The situation was now growing serious, for the train to Soempioeh went in half-an-hour, and, after paying his bill, there would be no money for the fare, even could he start penniless. As a forlorn hope X. sallied forth in the sun to pay one more visit to the post-office. This building was closed, and the hard-worked officials had retired to their private apartments in the back premises. Bold to desperation, the visitor skirted round the post-office and peered into the privacies beyond.

Seeing an open door he walked in, and found the chief official in his shirt sleeves partaking of his midday meal. With profuse apologies for his intrusion, X. stated his anxiety about his remittance, and rather feebly asked the officer if he were "quite sure" the letter had not come. "Quite sure," grumbled the official in excellent English, "but to satisfy you I'll let you come and look yourself." X. almost begged him not to take what surely must be superfluous trouble, but, luckily, refrained, and accompanying the officer into the post-office, walked towards a pile of papers stacked in pigeon-holes. "There," exclaimed his guide, "see--see for yourself"; and he did, for on the top lay a blue envelope duly registered and addressed to himself.

Thus the hotel bill was paid, and he caught the train to Soempioeh.

There he was met by Abu and messengers from the Wodena, who accompanied him to that officer's house.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE QUEST SUCCESSFUL--THE WODENA's HOUSE.

The Wodena's house was a comparatively large building made with alang-lalang walls,[4] and the floor on a level with the ground. The entire front of the house was open, though the overhanging eaves of the roof kept out the glare. In the foreground three tables with corresponding chairs were ranged stiffly, as though in a hotel verandah.

In one corner was a little cupboard kind of compartment, which X. found was his bedroom.

There was no attempt to cover the floor of bare earth with mats, as would have been the case in even poor Malay houses. At the back of the one large sitting room stood an imposing long table. The outlook of the house was on to some untidy waste land covered with long gra.s.s--rather an unusual sign of slovenliness in a country of such universal neatness.

Close by a new house was in course of construction for Government use.

This building had the somewhat strange combination of alang-lalang walls and a tiled roof. The host who welcomed X. to his house was, as has been said, the Wodena, or local head native magistrate. A Malay in such a position would most certainly have had a courteous manner and have probably been an agreeable companion. This official, though he evidently intended to be cordial, was awkward and seemingly stupid. He also spoke bad Malay, and seemed an ill-educated man for such a position. He wore a terrible old sun-helmet on his head, and presented a grotesque appearance.

[Footnote 4: Plaited gra.s.s.]

After having tea his host took X. for a walk round to show him the place, and all the people crouched on the ground as they pa.s.sed. The followers in uniform walked after them, occasionally shouting at those who did not promptly go to earth, while hurrying their movements with insinuating prods from the poles of office. The few Chinese who were met, bowed low like ladies to a royalty, which was a somewhat startling experience to X., so recently from Singapore, where Chinamen jostle Europeans from the side walks and puff bad tobacco in their faces as they pa.s.s. _Apropos_ of this it might be mentioned here that a high Dutch official in Java stated that he considered that the way the Chinese in Singapore were allowed to treat the Europeans was "nothing less than a disgrace to civilization." In the Singapore local press at the time of writing there is now appearing a series of indignant letters from a Chinaman in Selangor who signs himself as "Speaking Pig Tail."

This scribe complains to "Mr. Editor" that he has not the same rights as a European. I wonder what "Speaking Pig Tail" would say to the above-mentioned Dutch official.

However these particular Chinese in Soempioeh bowed many inches low to the Wodena, while X. with bland self-consciousness appropriated a certain length to himself as the only white man in the place.

This walk at Soempioeh was full of interest, and the Wodena kindly replied to the best of his ability to all the questions asked. The whole country round was one vast expanse of padi, valleys and hills alike so far as the eye could reach, and it seemed to X. that no population could be sufficiently dense to consume such an apparently unlimited supply, but the Wodena a.s.sured him that none was ever exported. The town presented a busy scene of great activity, as there was evidently a country fair in full swing, and rows of people lined the roadside selling quaint cakes and fruit, and here and there a stall was gay and sweet-smelling with little heaps of gathered rose leaves and yellow blooms of fragrant chimpaka. The Wodena and his visitor called on the chief Chinese of the town, of which race he informed him there were two hundred all told. These people scarcely resembled the Chinamen as known to X., since they had all been born and bred in the neighbourhood, and not one of them had experience of life beyond the island of Java. The head Chinaman produced various curios--so considered--for inspection, these being sent for from the p.a.w.n-shops close by. The Wodena volunteered the information that large quant.i.ties of opium were consumed in the district. This meant, as there were no Chinese, the habitual use of this drug amongst the people. After this walk the little procession wended its way back to the Wodena's house. Dinner that night proved a weird meal, as Usoof, who cooked, had gone to the neighbouring village of Tambak, where he found his mother dwelt, and Abu, who had never cooked anything more complicated than rice, tried his 'prentice hand.

The next day was Sunday, and the weekly fair was at its height till twelve noon. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people were packed tightly together, line after line, under little sheds, selling sarongs and cloths of every conceivable colour, with hats, mats, and native ornaments of all descriptions. It was an animated scene, and one not easily forgotten, and this was the first time, if the Wodena was to be believed, that any white man had seen it. Be that as it may, or perhaps as it may not, X. allowed himself the satisfaction of believing that it was the first time that any Englishman had seen it.

After the fair the traveller returned home, and there received a visit from Usoof and his mother. He had found her, and the object of his journey to Java was accomplished. It appears that he had met her while walking along a path by the river, which his awakened memory recalled would lead him to his home. And she, noting his unusual dress and stranger-like appearance, stopped to ask whether he had any news of her son who many years ago had gone away to Singapore, and to whom she had so frequently written, receiving no reply. She feared he was dead, but as the kind stranger came from foreign parts it was possible that amongst the colony of Javanese in Singapore he might have heard of her long-lost son.

Such was the meeting, and a dramatic and successful climax to what had seemed a somewhat forlorn quest. Had I the pen of a Swettenham or a Clifford, those sympathetic spinners of delightful tales of a race whose childish faith so lends itself to story, I might here find material for pages of a charming romance. But in reality there was little romance about Usoof, rather a st.u.r.dy honesty and affection, as he brought his poor mother in her humble attire and presented her to his Tuan, who, at that moment, bored to death by his kind host, who would not cease to entertain him by sitting by him in attentive silence, would have welcomed any diversion as a boon.

But the poor lady, according to the custom of the country, could only prostrate herself outside the house nor venture nearer than some dozen yards, probably regarding her new-found son, who stood upright, as some knave who courted death.

This system of obeisance had been rather embarra.s.sing to X., since all the retainers of his host stooped low and crept about while his own attendants had maintained their usual att.i.tudes with occasional lapses from the perpendicular. For there had been intervals over night when, realizing his conspicuous position, Abu had wandered about awkwardly doubled up, and offered cigarettes and liquid refreshment from somewhere among the legs of the table, startling his master by his sudden cat-like appearance in unexpected places, while there was that in his eye which said, "Do not expect this sort of thing to continue when we get you home."

CHAPTER XIX.

A VILLAGE HOME IN JAVA.

To Usoof and his mother the great Wodena was kindness itself, and conversed with them in Javanese with much affability. X. wishing to see a real country village, and obtain speech with its people, away from the all-subduing eye of the local authority, promised to go that afternoon and visit the good lady in her ancestral home, and a few hours later he took the train for the next station, Tambak. No European had ever done such a thing before apparently, and there was quite a fuss at the station to find a first or even a second-cla.s.s ticket. And during the search the railway officials displayed the most naive curiosity, and questioned the traveller without restraint. Arrived at Tambak X.

descended, and immediately the station-master hurried forward and politely a.s.sured him that he had made a mistake, since Gombong, the large town, was the next station but one. He obviously could not believe it possible that any European should get out at Tambak on purpose, and regarded the polite insistence of X. that he knew where he wanted to go as evidence of some sort of want of sanity, to be pa.s.sed over as harmless. Gesticulating and ejaculating, the worthy gentleman collected quite a little crowd of gazers as the white man, followed by Usoof, sauntered out of the station. Once out of sight, the station-master would have been intensely gratified to see X., who did not really in the least know where he was going, turn round and ask his follower the way.

So they branched off to the left and wended their route along the banks of a noisy river, beneath the shade of huge trees which formed an avenue by the side of the water. On their right lay the endless padi fields of early green and ripening gold, all equally shimmering in the sun. This combination of ripe padi, side by side with newly sown, forms a striking feature of Javanese agriculture. While gazing upon this warm picture, and congratulating himself that someone had had the forethought to plant this pleasant row of trees, the voice of Usoof from the rear announced that they must now turn to the right. To turn to the right naturally meant to go across that sunlit plain. The hand of X. involuntarily went up to his stiff stand-up collar, and though he could not see the face of his attendant, he was aware through his back that he smiled. So climbing a rustic stile they branched off to the right and walked across the padi, where the lurid light was zigzagging above the corn. Presently the red roofs of a village were in sight, and once more the voice of Usoof spoke to introduce his birthplace. This was interesting, as was the additional information that the little river they had now to cross was the boundary of his ancestral land. The house they had come all this way to see was deep in the shadow of countless fruit trees, over which towered palms of considerable age. The green turf so scrupulously neat, and the little group of buildings set round the central house, all combined to make a picturesque scene.

In the front of these cottages, on the green turf, was the reception house--a square building, surrounded by benches with a table in the middle.

Here the stranger was escorted by a crowd of Javanese, cousins and sisters and brothers and aunts, without number--for it seemed less of a family than a tribe which had come together to do him honour. Then the guest was seated in the place of state, and fruit of many kinds in large bra.s.s dishes was set before him. It was truly a pleasant spot, and there was additional satisfaction in the thought that with so little to guide them they had been able to light upon it without lengthy search. Then ensued a conversation, during which the visitor learnt and imparted many things. Amongst the former he heard that once before, when the railway was being made, a white man had been seen in the neighbourhood, but the present occasion was the first, when the village had beheld one close.

And this stranger told them of the Malays and his life amongst them, and how their houses and customs resembled theirs, while Usoof, alone venturing to remain upright, acted as interpreter as a swarm of young brown relations clasped his hands and ruthlessly robbed him of his watch and chain, his bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, and all the loose coins in his pockets.

Then X., who has a material mind, asked to see the t.i.tle deeds of their lands, which were produced and inspected, and they were instructed how to proceed, so that when the time came the absent Usoof, as the eldest son, should obtain his fair share of the inheritance. Then, as the shadows were lengthening, and the zigzags on the padi had given way to a soft and mellow light fanned by an evening breeze, X. gave the signal to depart and announced that farewells must be made. Hurrying over his own, he wandered towards the river so that he might not witness the anguish of the mother bereaved anew of her long lost son, but he could not escape hearing the sounds of sobs which arose behind him. And the little procession of two--the European with his limp collar, and the Javanese bereft of all his finery--started once more across the plain. But the procession grew and grew, as one by one the fond relations hurried after it for one more glimpse or one more word for the departing brother.

Then the traveller began to feel as near a brute as ever in his life before, and suggested to Usoof that he should bid him good-bye and return for good to the bosom of his weeping family. But this he declined to do, and at the rustic stile the actual parting came. Arrived at the train, the good station-master was still on the look-out and walking around as though something unusual had happened, but, tired and hot, X.

parried his questionings with some abruptness. But the interviewer was as persistent as if he were on the staff of a London evening paper, and after producing an inverted wheelbarrow, which he offered X. as a seat, went to his house for a whisky and soda--called by the natives "Dutch water." After that walk in the sun, his whole physical and nervous system disorganized by the deglut.i.tion of strange fruits and condiments, and by witnessing heartrending family farewells, an unexpected whisky and soda, when such a restorative had seemed as un.o.btainable as the very moon which was beginning to appear, was welcome indeed. The station-master was at once the master of the situation, and the hitherto taciturn Englishman, his thirst a.s.suaged and his limbs at rest, became as communicative as a star of _the_ profession, and answered all questions as fully and docilely as a willing witness in the hands of his own counsel.

CHAPTER XX.

BACK TO THE JUNGLE.

Arrived at the house of the Wodena, the traveller had to submit to more pumping, nor would his host rest until he knew, or was persuaded he knew, each word which X. had written in his letter of thanks to the a.s.sistant Resident at Tjilatj.a.p. That night it was very hot, and it was borne in upon the sleepless traveller that he had exhausted the resources of the place. Therefore at an early hour next morning his miscellaneous fairings were packed, the cost of his entertainment liberally repaid, and accepted without demur, and the visitors, after earnestly commending the picturesque little village at Tambak to special official protection, departed for the station. X. had intended to now perform the usual round and visit the temples at Djaokjakerta, Solo and Semarang, but when almost in the act of asking for his ticket, a spirit of revolt infected him, and he rebelled at the thought that he must go here and there just because all others did, when his inclinations really called him elsewhere, for his inclinations were bidding him go back to the cottage in the hills, where the tea and coffee grew. And so without hesitation he took his ticket and sent a telegram to announce his intended return. Bandong was to be the first halting-place, which meant travel in that crawling train from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., and stopping at twenty-eight stations on the way. There was no first-cla.s.s compartment and the seats of the second-cla.s.s were hard and narrow, and the cramped s.p.a.ce after the first few hours became almost unbearable.

Things looked brighter, the guard flattered the hopes of pa.s.sengers by asking who would buy tickets for lunch at some halting-place further on, so that he could telegraph for the meal to be prepared. Hope is eternal, and experience of Java hotels had not yet robbed the traveller of the fond pleasure of antic.i.p.ation. The Swindon of the line was reached, and there, sure enough, was a table spread with food. After the first bite of the first dish X. realized sadly that he had been done, since it would have been impossible to make any impression on that meat with aught less forcible than an axe. Thus, with reluctance, his portion, albeit paid for in advance, was relinquished, to be again paid for probably and again to flatter and deceive some other pa.s.sing and hungry stranger. The remainder of the journey proved agreeable, thanks to the companionship of a young officer who, invalided home from the Lomboh war, was _en route_ to Buitenzorg, where he lived. This poor warrior had undergone a time of much hardship, and related how he and his men had slept shelterless on the wet ground and for nights had nothing but rice to eat. And this only half a day's journey from the princ.i.p.al port in Java, and with as much money collected for aid to the soldiers as would have, if necessary, paid for the whole cost of the war. This companion told many interesting anecdotes of the war, and related some almost incredible tales of the treachery and ingrat.i.tude of the natives.

The Englishman also availed himself of this opportunity for hearing something of social etiquette in time of peace, and the unwritten rules which guided those attending entertainments where Dutch and natives met.

As for instance, when the Sultan of Djoedja gives a ball, each official must stand upon a step, high or low, in proportion to his rank, while the Resident is met and escorted to the same lofty alt.i.tude as the Sultan, on the top.

To the Governor-General, however, the Sultan must do obeisance.

This might be a convenient place to mention the great regard officially paid to caste. Reverence for rank amongst the people is fostered and aided by their rulers, and if a man of position is ever suspected or accused so that inquiry becomes necessary, it must take place with closed doors and in private.