All was calm along the riverside, at least for the moment. The Dyaks had not come this far, for the waters were teeming with flocks of birds enjoying their morning swim.
Large stork-billed kingfishers roamed about the river’s edge, red beaks poking among the reeds, as they hunted for their breakfast. A few baya weavers wheeled overhead, hailing the approaching ship with several sharp notes. Broadbills whispered from among the trees, safe in their purse-shaped nests, while large crocodiles lazed on the sandbanks, their rugged backs plastered with mud.
“Just what I needed. They’re perfect!” murmured Yanez, fixing his eyes on the formidable reptiles. “Sambigliong!”
The quartermaster quickly appeared before him.
“Drop anchor.”
“Are we stopping here, Captain Yanez?”
“Only for a few minutes, get as close to one of those sandbanks as you can.”
“Planning to catch a crocodile?”
“Not quite. Have someone fetch me a rope.”
Minutes later, the pilot appeared on deck, his hands bound behind his back, Tangusa a step behind, pushing him forward.
Though terrified, the wretch still swore he had nothing to confess.
“Sambigliong,” said Yanez, once the anchor had been dropped. “Throw those monsters a bit of meat; that ought to wet their appetites.”
The Marianna had stopped a short distance from the sandbank; several gavials lay in the mud, the smallest measuring no less than five metres.
Warmed by the sun, they slept peacefully, the sound of the approaching ship not stirring them from their slumber.
“Wake up boyo[2]!” shouted Sambigliong, tossing a couple of large slabs of raw meat toward the sandbank.
At the sight of that free meal, the gavials had quickly roused and rushed towards the food, battling ferociously to claim the prize. Tails whipping about frenziedly, they quickly devoured that morning snack, then, their appetites stirred, they advanced towards the edge of the sandbank, their wide jaws opening expectantly toward the Marianna.
“Señor Yanez,” said Sambigliong, “looks like they’re still hungry.”
“I have just the thing,” the Portuguese replied, indicating the pilot whose eyes were fixed on those monsters.
“Sii… Siiir,” he stammered, turning towards Yanez.
“Silence!” the Portuguese replied bluntly.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. You may proceed, Sambigliong.”
The quartermaster fastened a thick rope about the prisoner’s hips, picked him up and tossed him over the side before the Malay could even think of resisting.
Believing he was about to fall into the mouths of those formidable reptiles, the pilot cried out in fear, but the rope snapped taut several feet above the water.
Drawn by the fresh prey dangling over the river, the gavials dove into the water and quickly swam toward the Marianna.
Crazed with fear, Padada struggled helplessly, crying out at the top of his voice as he writhed against the side of the ship.
“Help! Help! Mercy! Save me!” he shouted, trying with all his might to sever the chords binding his hands.
Yanez, standing on the bulwark, holding onto a ratline, looked on impassively as the gavials snapped at their prey, leaping halfway out of the water with every swipe of their tails.
“It’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t die of fright,” said Tangusa.
“Malays are pretty tough,” replied Yanez. “Let him squirm a bit.”
The poor man was howling at the top of his voice, making more noise than a band of red monkeys.
“Help! Mercy! They’re getting closer. Mercy! Sir!”
Yanez gestured for Sambigliong to pull the rope up a little, for a gavial had touched the prisoner with the tip of its snout, then turned to address the struggling pilot.
“So what will it be? Should we pull you up or should I cut the rope? Your fate is in your hands.”
“Sir!... Pull me up!... Pull me up!... I can’t take this anymore.”
“Will you talk?”
“Yes, I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Swear it on Nyai Roro Kidul.”
“I swear, sir!”
“Be warned, if you change your mind once you’re aboard, I’ll toss you back over the side.”
“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Only…”
“Yes?” said Yanez.
“Will you kill me after I’ve confessed?”
“I wouldn’t know what do with your hide. You’ll remain our prisoner until we’ve completed our mission. Once we’ve returned to the mouth of the river, you’ll be free to go and get yourself hanged wherever you may wish. Come, we’ll discuss this below. You as well, Tangusa.”
Pulled aboard, the Malay followed the two men without hesitation, his teeth still chattering in terror.
“So let’s hear your interesting confession,” said Yanez, stretching out on a small divan and lighting a cigarette. “Remember you’ve sworn an oath, break your word and your life comes to an end.”
“I’ll tell you everything I know, sir.”
“So, it was the Dyaks that sent you to intercept the Marianna.”
“Yes, sir,” the Malay replied.
“The sherip?”
“No, sir; I’ve never spoken with him.”
“Who then?”
“Well… I’m not really sure. A man arrived here a few weeks ago with crates of weapons and a large amount of money, guineas and Dutch florins mostly.”
“Alone?”
“I believe so.”
“And?”
“He met with all the tribal leaders. They received him with deference, for he wore the green turban of a hajji, a Muslim who has made the great pilgrimage to Mecca. I don’t know what he told them or what he promised, but a few days later, the Dyaks were newly armed and clamouring for Tremal-Naik’s head.”
“He gave those stupid fanatics weapons?”
“And a lot of money as well.”
“Is it true that a British ship dropped anchor at the mouth of the Kabatuan a few days ago and the sherip met with her commander?” asked Yanez.
“Yes, sir, and that very night the crew unloaded even more crates of weapons.”
“Who is that man? A Malay? A Bornean?”
“No, sir. He’s dark skinned, but he’s not native to these islands.”
“A great mystery!” murmured Yanez. He remained silent a moment as if deep in thought, then asked, “How did he know that the Marianna was coming to Tremal-Naik’s aid?”
“One of the Indian’s servants informed the Dyak leaders.”
“What were your orders?”
The Malay hesitated for a moment, then replied:
“First, to strand your ship.”
“As I suspected. And then?”
“I’d rather not mention the rest.”
“You have nothing to fear. I’ve promised to spare you; I won’t break my word.”
“To take advantage of the Dyak attack and set fire to your ship.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” laughed Yanez. “So they wanted us dead?”
“Yes, sir. It appears the sherip has a score to settle with the Tigers of Mompracem.”
“Us as well!” exclaimed Yanez, not hiding his surprise. “Who could he be? We’ve never had any dealings with Muslim fanatics.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, sir.”
“If what you say is true, that wretch will dog us no matter where we go.”
“He won’t stop until you’re all dead, you can be sure of that,” said the pilot. “He’s made the Dyak chiefs swear not to give quarter.”
“Well, we can be just as merciless, can’t we, Tangusa?”
“Yes, Señor Yanez.”
“Padada,” said the Portuguese, “do you know if Pangutaran’s farm has already been attacked?”
“I don’t think so, sir, the sherip planned to move his forces against you f
irst.”
“So the path from the pier to Tremal-Naik’s kampong may be clear.”
“Or poorly guarded.”
“How much did the sherip pay you to run my ship aground and set fire to her?”
“Fifty florins and two carbines.”
“I’ll give you two hundred if you lead me to the kampong.”
“I accept, sir,” the Malay replied, “I would have accepted even without the money, I owe you my life.”
“Are we still far from the pier?”
“We’ll be there in a couple of hours,” said Tangusa, fixing his eyes upon the Malay.
“Maybe sooner,” the prisoner added.
Yanez loosened the chords binding the prisoner’s hands.
“Time to go back on deck.”
All was calm along the river, silence reigning among the tangle of ferns, cycas, pandanus, casuarine and palm trees that lined its banks. Numerous biawaks swam among the reeds, large lizards common to those waters, many more than two metres in length.
High above the riverbank, several siamangs jumped from branch to branch, playing among the rattans that festooned the trees, their throat pouches hidden beneath their long, shaggy black fur.
But though all eyes kept watch upon the shores, not a trace of the Dyaks had been spotted among the vegetation.
Aided by her oars, the Marianna advanced slowly, the wind having dropped, unable to pierce the thick canopy. She continued upriver until midday, then slowed as she came within sight of a wooden platform jutting out over the water.
“That’s the pier to Pangutaran’s kampong,” Tangusa and the pilot exclaimed simultaneously.
“Approach and drop anchor,” the Portuguese commanded. “All gunners to the swivel guns.”
Two anchors were tossed over the side and the ship, driven by the current, drew up alongside the pier.
Yanez had climbed up onto the bulwark to make sure no Dyaks were hiding near the shore.
The savages had been there recently, there was no doubt. Several huts had been burned to the ground; the remains of a large shed stood further off, its columns charred black with smoke and ash.
“The place appears to be deserted,” said Yanez, turning toward Tangusa who had also climbed up onto the bulwark.
“They didn’t think we’d get this far,” replied Tangusa. “They were certain they’d have slaughtered us at the mouth of the river.”
“How long ‘til we reach the kampong?”
“A couple of hours, Señor Yanez.”
“Close enough for Tremal-Naik to hear a blast from our chasers?”
“Yes, I think so. Do you plan to leave immediately?”
“That would be rash. Best to wait for nightfall; it’ll be easier to advance under cover of darkness.”
“How many men are you going to take?”
“No more than twenty. I don’t want to leave the Marianna undefended. If we lost her, we’d be done for. In the meantime, we’ll go scout the surrounding area, just to make sure there aren’t any traps. I don’t find this quiet very reassuring.”
He ordered the swivel guns pointed at the pier, had barricades erected from barrels filled with scrap iron to better protect the gunners, then ordered the sails partially reefed so the ship would be ready to sail in minutes.
Once those preparations had been completed, Yanez, Tangusa, the pilot, and four Malay crewmen, armed to the teeth, stepped onto the pier determined to ensure the path was clear before they ventured into the large thick forests that stretched from the river to Pangutaran’s kampong.
Chapter 6
The Elephants Attack
A SMALL CLEARING dotted with stumps stretched out before the pier, extending to just past what remained of the huts and storage shacks. A vast forest towered beyond it, a wall of ferns, cycas, durians, and casuarine wreathed in vines and lianas.
Silence reigned beneath those august trees, broken from time to time by the soft cry of a gecko lizard, or the whispered notes of a small group of sunbirds.
Reassured by the quiet and the presence of a small band of buto monkeys in a nearby banana tree, Yanez and his men circled the huts then entered the forest. They kept close to the perimeter for about a half mile, their eyes scanning every bush and tree, but did not find a single trace of their implacable enemies.
“They couldn’t have just disappeared,” said Yanez, his suspicions raised by the Dyaks’ sudden absence. “Why would they just leave us be after all those attempts on our lives?”
“If the sherip has pledged to kill you, he won’t stop until he has your heads,” said the pilot.
“Our heads,” said the Portuguese, “you’re one of us now. There’s not much more we can do here, best we go back to the ship and wait for nightfall.”
The return journey was uneventful, confirming their suspicions that the Dyaks must still have been far off.
Once the sun had set, Yanez began his preparations. There were thirty-six men aboard including half a dozen wounded. Realizing the Marianna could be attacked during his absence, he decided to take only fifteen men.
Towards nine, after having issued Sambigliong his final orders, he returned ashore with Tangusa, the pilot and their escort.
Each man was armed with an Indian carbine, a parang, those sharp heavy sabres that can behead a man with a single blow, and a large supply of ammunition.
“Try not to make any noise,” said Yanez, as they reached the outskirts of the forest. “And be ready for anything.”
He turned to take one last look at the ship. She was little more than a silhouette among the vegetation but, inexplicably, at the sight of her, his heart began to pound.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he murmured uneasily.
He shook off the troubling thought and headed in among the trees, two steps behind Tangusa and the pilot, the only two men capable of guiding the small squad through that chaos of vegetation.
Silence reigned beneath that endless vault of greenery, not a leaf stirred, not a creature appeared before them. Even the bats, common to every forest of the Malay islands, had disappeared. At times a few lizards would break the silence, filling the air with their soft shrill cries.
The heat was almost unbearable.
“It feels like there’s a hurricane brewing,” said Yanez, finding it harder to breathe with every step.
“We’ve got a few hours at most, judging by the clouds,” replied Tangusa. “We should reach the kampong just ahead of it.”
“Provided no one attempts to stop us.”
“We haven’t seen a trace of the Dyaks for several hours now, sir.”
“There may be a few lurking about the kampong.”
“No more than a handful of men. The bulk of their forces were dispatched to the mouth of the river to take part in the attack.”
“In twenty-four hours we’ll be safe,” replied Yanez. “How many men does Tremal-Naik have with him?”
“About twenty Malays, Señor Yanez.”
“Enough reinforcements to make the Marianna impregnable. That wretched sherip will have his work cut out for him. Let’s pick up our pace; I’d like to reach the kampong before dawn.”
They had not gone far before they found their path cut off by a thick curtain of vegetation, an ancient pepper plantation long since abandoned.
Trees and bushes had not been able to stifle the growth of those woody vines. Twisting about the rotangs and calamuses, wrapping around the monstrous roots that sprung from the ground, they wove a thick almost impenetrable web.
“Draw your parangs,” said Yanez, realizing that the two guides had come to a halt.
“We’ll make noise,” observed the pilot.
“We’re not turning back.”
“The Dyaks could hear us, sir.”
“If they attack, we’ll give them the reception they deserve. We’ve got to hurry.”
Sabres hacking away relentlessly, they slowly opened a path and began to make their way through the endless forest.
“No one move,” he said.
“Dyaks?” whispered Yanez, quickly coming up beside him.
“I’m not sure, sir.”
“Did you hear something?”
“A few branches rustling in front of us.”
“Tangusa and I will go check it out. The rest of you remain here; don’t fire until I give the signal.”
Finding himself before a chaos of roots and vines he dropped to the ground and began to crawl towards the source of the noise.
Tangusa followed close behind him, trying not to make a sound.
They advanced about fifty metres and came to a halt beneath the petals of a krubut[3], an enormous flower more than a metre wide that smelled like rotting flesh.
The large plant stood in a small clearing, the perfect place to spot someone advancing through the forest.
“Padada was right,” said Yanez, after listening for a few minutes.
“Someone’s approaching,” Tangusa confirmed.
“What was that?” he asked Yanez suddenly.
A strange rumbling sound could be heard off in the distance.
“That wasn’t thunder,” said the Portuguese.
“The storm is still a few hours away,” replied Tangusa.
“That sounded more like a waterfall.”
“There aren’t any near here.”
“What could it be?”
“Whatever it is, it’s getting louder, sir.”
“Coming towards us?”
“Yes.”
“Shh!”
He put an ear to the ground and listened again, holding his breath.
A rumbling sound emanated from below, as if a large mass were quickly drawing nearer.
“I have no idea,” said Yanez finally, getting up. “Best we head back; the pilot may be able to explain this mystery.”
They slid back beneath the krubut and quickly retraced their steps, slithering among the vines and branches.
The rumbling had not stopped and when they rejoined their men they found the Dyaks and Malays looking about nervously. Only Padada appeared calm.
“What’s making that noise?” asked Yanez.
“A herd of elephants, sir,” replied the pilot. “A large one.”
“Elephants! What could have caused such a stampede?”
Sandokan: The King of the Sea (The Sandokan Series Book 5) Page 5