Golden Dreams of Borneo

By Alex Ling

Dreams of Gold Dreams of Power

These drove men and women to seek their fortune in Sarawak. They came from Britain to carve a future on virgin soil from China - to escape grinding poverty. They fought and traded, lived and died in the struggle to fulfil their dreams. Some lost their lives to bloodthirsty headhunters, or in the disease-ridden swamps and trackless jungles of the interior; some survived to make their fortune.

Chinese, British, Malays rubbed shoulders with fearsome Sea Dayaks, and nomads in the hunter-gatherer stage of evolution. The Steam Age met the Stone Age in this exotic, untouched land. Cultures clashed in a multiracial society.

Charles Brooke, enigmatic White Rajah of Sarawak, was a man of vision, a man with a mission to tame the natives first, then to protect them from exploitation. His dream was to take them gently towards modern civilisation, to bring them the rewards of self-development. He was paternalistic but loving, a truly benevolent despot.

Dreams of Adventure Dreams of Romance

Stephen Young, a young graduate, arrives in Sarawak in 1898. Seduced by its virgin beauty steaming jungle, majestic mountains and noble savages he stays. Erotic intrigue, passion, violence and warfare surround him. His goal is to survive these with his head and his heart intact.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Mar 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479791705

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Alex Ling.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013902463

ISBN:

   Hardcover   978-1-4797-9169-9

   Softcover     978-1-4797-9168-2

   Ebook          978-1-4797-9170-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 03/04/2013

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Contents

Foreword

Author’s Note

Acknowledgement

Historical Background

Prologue

Part One: 1800-1900

Part Two: 1901-1903

Part Three: 1904-1914

Part Four: 1915-1918

List of Illustrations

Santubong Village

Fort Margherita and Kuching Town

Tai Parit Goldmine

List of Maps

Geological map of part of the district of Sarawak, 1846

Map of Sarawak

Sarawak: 2nd Division, 1850-1900

Kuching Town

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This book is dedicated to my beloved wife, Ivy,

and my children,

Adrian, Anastasia, Annabela and Amelinda.

Foreword

A few years ago, when Alex Ling quoted this saying to me: ‘Politics without history has no roots, history without politics bears no fruits’, and spoke enthusiastically of the history of Sarawak and of the gold mines in Bau, I suggested to him that he writes a historical novel on these subjects.

Taking this cue, Alex set to work and produced this book Golden Dreams of Borneo—which is to be launched on the auspicious occasion of the 30th Anniversary of Sarawak’s Independence, achieved in 1963 through Malaysia.

As the title would indicate, this novel is about dreams that lured men and women from opposite ends of the earth to seek their fortunes on the fabulous island of Borneo, and more particularly in Sarawak. The action is set against the background of the unique and extraordinary regime of the Brookes, the White Rajahs of Sarawak, and traces the lives of the adventurous crew—English and Chinese—who came searching for their dreams. Some of the characters in this story are real, some fictitious. They meet because of their dreams—of adventure, romance, power and, ah—of gold. Some fulfilled their dreams, some did not, but all shared the experience of dramatic times.

It is a commendable feat for a new Sarawakian writer to embark on a historical novel of these dimensions, bringing to life the history of Sarawak under the Brookes, explaining their policies and actions, while approaching it from the viewpoints of all involved. The sweep of the story encompasses the heroic deeds of the freedom fighters—Sherip Masahor (Malay), Rentap (Sea Dayak) and Liu Shan Pang (Chinese)—against the rule of the Brookes. It describes the ‘Brooke tradition’, as it is known, and the legacy of the Brookes as represented by the ethnic and cultural diversity of Sarawak, which was augmented by their policy of encouraging Chinese immigration—mainly Hakkas, Hokkien, Cantonese and Foochows. The gold mines in Bau, native migration and disputes, the Rajah’s multiracial policy and his positive attitude to miscegenation, all these figure in the pages that follow. The period which Alex so ably illustrates has had a profound effect on the outlook of the inhabitants, their way of life, and on the socio-economic development of Sarawak.

Not least, he vividly evokes the romance and raw virgin beauty of the tropical rainforest. Any historian, tourist, traveller or other visitor to Sarawak can savour the sights and sounds of Sarawak, and gain an insight into the very soul of Sarawak, the spirit of its people, in this story.

I heartily congratulate the author for bringing out this timely novel—very appropriate for this grand Malaysia National Day—and for breathing life into the dreams of Sarawak in a bygone era, liberally spiced with the shocks that ensue where different cultures come together, all depicted with a lively sense of humour.

After his first novel, I hope he will write a sequel, carrying his story into the twentieth century. Let us hope too that other local writers will be encouraged to write novels about their homeland—their homeland with its colourful history, varied traditions and rich cultural heritage.

Datuk Patinggi Tan Sri Haji Abdul Taib bin Mahmud

Chief Minister of Sarawak

Kuching

August 1993

Author’s Note

T his is an historical novel, its background as authentic as my research could make it. Some of the characters, incidents and events are fictitious. Any similarities to living characters or surviving trading companies, such as the Borneo Company, are purely coincidental.

Nevertheless, some of the characters such as the Rajah Brookes, and Kungfu Master Liu Shan Pang, the leader of the Chinese ‘freedom fighting’ or ‘rebellion’ (depending on your point of view), are real. Of course, much of the dialogue and the encounters between the Rajahs, Bong Kueh Liew, the head of the ‘Dragon Gate Kongsi’, and Stephen Young are pure invention. On the other hand, Chan Kau and Joseph Young, the metallurgist of the Borneo Company who introduced the newly discovered method of cyanidation of gold, are more than just fictitious characters. The intrigues in the mining scene, with the Chinese ‘Kongsi’ working as contractors to the Borneo Company and for themselves, were larger than life itself. Each set out to look for his or her own dream. Some dreamt about gold; others power and glory; still others for adventure and romance. Some found it; others did not. When they crossed each other’s paths, sparks flew, and that is when the story begins.

No doubt, there is a warp in time and space of some of the historical events.

In general, the mining history, the mining traditions, the ghost stories, and the scandals, with their special characters and environment, the legends and folklore of Bau mining town, have been carefully portrayed and preserved.

However, the story tries to reflect to a great degree the mood, the carefree style, the character and the spirit of those lusty times. An era of bare-breasted native maidens and bare-chested warring Dayaks, the natives of Borneo. The story too mirrors the political, economic and social fabric of society in Sarawak, before and during the golden age of the Brooke’s rule.

The romanticism, intrigues and guile of the White Rajahs created a powerful aura of superiority in Sarawak. They exuded a kind of occidental mysticism which subsequently enabled them to wield an almost absolute power, which the natives such as Rentap, the self-styled Sea Dayak ‘Rajah of Sadok’, and Sherip Masahor and the Chinese immigrants such as Kungfu Master Liu Shan Pang had to learn painfully to respect for more than a century. The Rajahs had bigger cannon and cannon balls! and that made all the difference between victory and defeat; the difference between war and maintaining peaceful interludes.

Throughout, the development of Sarawak was tempered by the paternal and civilising influence of missionaries of various denominations, as well as by administration in the Brooke tradition. A unique tradition fostered by the background and congenial nature of the officers and Residents of the White Rajah Dynasty, which lasted for more than a century until 1946. These were self-made men invariably, however overweight for the tropics!

Naturally, the Brooke family forms an important historical thread in the story. Rajah James Brooke was a romantic adventurer; Rajah Charles the builder of a nation; and, inheriting the Brookes’ legacy and good looks, the debonair Charles Vyner Brooke, a playboy and happy-go-lucky ruler who, indeed, with his over-liberated wife, Ranee Sylvia Brooke, an English aristocrat, was apt to find nothing surprising or shocking in life especially where morals and protocol were concerned.

It is indeed fascinating to study the Sea Dayaks’ resistance to the Rajahs’ rule; to reflect on the ‘Malay plot’, the Chinese ‘freedom fighting’ or ‘rebellion’, the gold mining activities of the Hakkas, an ethnic group of Chinese; to examine the enterprise of the Borneo Company on the Bau mining scene, the monopoly of the Chinese immigrants flooding Sarawak in trade in both urban and remote rural areas; to explore the rich traditions and cultural heritage so unique to Sarawak. Against such a colourful and distinctive background one cannot fail to observe an unfolding panorama of gradual change in the politico-socio-economic set-up of Sarawak and the Dayak headhunters’ habits; the awakening of the spirit of nationalism among the Malay pioneers for a different reason; and the Chinese practical philosophy, opting for trade rather than social status or political power.

Indeed, the Brookes had to defeat the three major races to claim their rightful place in history and to rule Sarawak for more than a century.

As the story unfolds, one is invited to take a stroll in the Sarawak jungle; and it is like walking down memory lane from the land of headhunters to the land of the White Rajahs before it becomes the land of the hornbills. Many latent examples of the beauty of nature are still well-kept secrets, unspoilt by monstrous steel, monumental facades and creations by futuristic architects and engineers. During the journey through the forest and along the shore, one cannot fail to encounter the mysterious perfumes of unknown blossoms and music from nature’s symphony orchestra, and wonders of nature untouched by roads and rivers. There is territory unspoilt by mankind and modern civilization, hidden away in the jungle which still possesses the lush ambience of tropical rainforests and still boasts the world’s biggest underground cave system, at the mammoth Mulu National Park, right in the heart of Borneo.

To the ignorant or the naive public at large, and even to the one-track-minded intelligentsia in many regions of the civilised world, merely to mention the name Borneo was to conjure up the headhunters; those a little more knowledgeable would recall the romantic history of the White Rajah Brookes who ruled Sarawak for more than a century in their unique fashion; those even better informed might have heard of the Penans—a nomadic tribe akin to the little known tribe of the Yanomami in the Amazon or the Tasaday tribe in Southern Mindanao in the Philippines and so on. Borneo was a land of promise in which to search for the kith and kin of Wallace and Darwin, the orang utan: a paradise for botanists and naturalists, such as Beccari, and a new market for trade and monopoly.

A challenge it was, fit for those seeking adventure who could later tell exotic oriental fables to their friends and business associates back in England during afternoon teas at the cricket club or at dinner.

However, only true missionaries, the Rajah Brookes and their dedicated officers could really describe the trials and tribulations of that special breed of brave, mission-fired, adventurous men and women living in those heightened times who would go to these extraordinary places in Borneo in the quest to fulfil their dreams.

Nature lovers can still acquaint themselves with the potpourri of biota, as well as meet some of the nomadic tribes, such as Penans, and other Orang Ulu, Dayaks, most of whom now have established more permanent settlements near rivers or flat lands. Indeed, a dramatic change after roaming for centuries in the ‘green mansions’, sometimes fringed with yellow and white sandy beaches, dotted with clusters of waving casuarina and bent coconut trees.

Any ‘misinterpretation’ of the cultural shock for foreigners and the characteristics of the various races in the story is based on historical and cultural inferences. These races are distinctive and, yet, charming, innocent and genuine in their own singular fashion. Indeed they are a people who were often vulnerable to exploitation and open to manipulation. In the story you will find interpretations of and interpolations into some historical events—no doubt, subjective. Any inaccuracy is mine. But, all in all, the virtues and shortcomings of these people whether adorable or detestable, are portrayed in good faith, good humour and without malice.

Acknowledgement

T he Brookes, familiarly known as the White Rajahs, administered Sarawak on the north-west corner of the Island of Borneo from 1841 to 1946. Theirs was a unique dynasty. For this novel, Golden Dreams of Borneo, I am indebted to some of the writers on Sarawak, both local and foreign, who have, in no small way, contributed to my more perceptive understanding of the period. I found the literature on gold since 1800 particularly absorbing.

Below are some of the writers that the author would particularly like to acknowledge.

S. Barin-Gould, C.A. Bampfylde, R.W. Boyle, Charles Anthony Brooke, Sir James Brooke, Chant Pat Fob, John Chater, Daniel Chew, Colin N. Crissweel, John Michael Chin, J.M. Gullick, Tom Harrison and Barbara Harrison, Craig Lockard, Admiral Sir Henry Keppel, Joan Lo, Henry Longhurst, Evelyn Lip, Lau W. E., Ranee Margaret, Harriette McDougall, Donald Adrian Owen, Ong Boon Lim, Robert Payne, Elizabeth Pollard, Robert Pringle, R.H.W. Reece, Steven Runciman, Graham Saunders, Arthur F. Sharp, Peter Shen, Spenser St John, Tama Starr, Ranee Sylvia, K.G. Tregonning, A.B. Ward, Joyce Wilson, Marion Wynne-Davies and Paul Yong Min Hian.

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Historical Background

(Strictly for the ‘historians’ and lovers of gold)

G old has been called the first folly of man and mistress of civilisation, just as Eve has been relegated to the second folly of man and mother of civilisation. Since time immemorial, man has always retained a curious fascination and lust for this glowing metal, considered a saviour or a curse. Sometimes gold is linked with a host of other fanciful, if at times derogatory epithets, undoubtedly glorified for its great natural beauty, chemistry and universal durability. Whether the derivation of the word gold is from the Sanskrit word ‘javlita’ (to shine) or the Teutonic word ‘gulth’ (glowing or shining metal) or the Latin word ‘aurum’, the desire for gold has changed the political and legal boundaries of lands and nations as well as influenced man’s history and destiny.

The frenzied cry ‘gold’ has lured millions of Indiana Joneses to the mysterious island of Borneo—to Sambas, Montrado and Bau—and Bengkulu in Sumatra, as well as across oceans and over mountain ranges to Arctic tundras, the Yukon, scorching deserts, South Africa, California and the dark continent. Through the humid and dangerous Amazon jungles they sought the ancient, fabled and legendary gold of the lost city of the Incas; down to sunken Atlantis, down to deep ocean beds or continental shelves, seeking treasure of lost gold coins, gold bars or ingots, guarded jealously by deadly white sharks or giant octopuses. Many have chased that elusive metal, the golden dream at the end of the rainbow; but only a lucky few have found more than gold dust.

Jason and the Argonauts, the pharaohs of Egypt, the Emperors of China, the natives of the dark continents, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Christopher Columbus, Sir Walter Raleigh, Cortez and many other adventurers down through history became afflicted with the fever of ‘Aura Sacra Fames’ while seeking their ‘Golden Fleece’, ‘King Solomon’s Mines’, ‘El Dorado’, ‘Klondikes’, or the largest gold deposits of all in the reefs of Witwatersrand of South Africa.

The simple-minded natives of the dark continent were simply told that the white man’s God was ‘gold’. ‘At all hazards get gold.’ The lust for gold has been, most of the time, at the root of most evils. Greed bred more greed. Human values were cast to the wind; coaches, trains, banks and naive or vigilant travellers throughout the centuries have become the easy targets of bandits, robbers, revolutionaries and counter-revolutionaries; human freedom and sometimes lives were trampled into dust. All for gold.

The royal decree or military order of ‘get gold, humanely if you can’ was seldom adhered to, a sour joke for millions of poor, uneducated and ‘uncivilised’ native landowners. Pollution of the rivers and fish with mercury used in gold processing took its toll as mining development steamrollered any opposition.

In hot pursuit of this golden treasure, gods as well as men are often destroyed as in Wagner’s great opera tetralogy Der Ring des Nibelungen of which Das Rheingold is the prelude; many brave men, fearless gold prospectors, diggers and brokers as well as underwater fortune hunters, lost their lives to tunnelling disease, and robbers, staking and protecting their claims, or asphyxiated in collapsed adits due to lack of air.

The early prospectors had only to physically separate the coarse or fine alluvial gold by panning or by gravity from the dross of the placers, quartz and other gangue. Indeed, gold is a relatively common mineral but is seldom found in visible metal form; and gold is present in invisible form in quartz veins, in the oxidized zones of many ‘nasty’ sulphide ores, in other models or types of auriferous deposits and also in other places such as in the creeks, streams, river systems and alluvial flats of many parts of the world.

Necessity became the mother of invention. Geochemistry and geophysics with ever-improving technology had slowly come to the rescue of the frustrated geologists who were trying to detect the geological signatures and leakage of gold, by poking expensive drilling rods through the face of the earth. Slowly, through accident rather than design, they learned the ‘hide and seek’ game of mother nature, compounded by structures, different ages of rock types and different, but erratic, phases of mineralisation under heat and pressure with different melting points for different metals or minerals, in liquid or perhaps even gaseous forms.

The metallurgists and mineralogists, not wanting to be outdone by the geologists, had to improve their arsenal of equipment and chemicals to physically and chemically release the locked-up metallurgical secrets of mother gold lodes—whether fresh or oxidised or whether with visible grain or microscopic gold—with knowledge acquired through the empirical trial and error method or accidental discovery. To fight for a better recovery rate, they had used physical separators such as panning, sluicing, ‘palong-sluicing’, vibrating screens, trommels, cyclones, classifiers, fine grinding circuits, pulsating jigs and shaking tables and also chemical methods such as froth flotation, sulphide roasting and, later on, cyanidation.

Indeed, ‘Long has man travelled in the realms of gold’.

Whenever and wherever gold was discovered by men, female ‘gold diggers’, hot on their heels, would be lured like bees to the nectar, to the frantic scenes of panning and sluicing in the streams or foothills, as women’s best friend was gold—before being overtaken by diamonds. The enterprising, hardworking Amazon type would pan, as man’s equal, throughout the day for lucky nuggets or visible grains or colour while the pretty looking, flirtatious, more ‘feminine’ ones with softer skins and artificial sexy moles at appropriate, discreet places, splashed generously with floral scent or powder, would sleep by day and carry on the world’s oldest profession or trade by night.

Naturally they preferred pieces of solid gold tested by their canine teeth and weighed on their personal scales to hard cash, with no discount for services rendered or to be rendered, depending on the Laws of Demand and Supply at a particular time and a particular place.

Gold, the most noble of metals, with its magnificent, long and gripping history, is many things to many people. For geologists, who are like optimistic golfers dreaming of scoring birdies after bungling with double bogeys on the previous holes, gold is the inspirer of usually unfulfilled dreams, passion and visions of never-ending genetic models of mineralisation; to dentists, it is a finishing touch of crowning glory; to geochemists, it is a superb and rare metal with a baffling geochemistry; to mining engineers, the challenge of extraction of ores from the crust of the earth is a piece of cake, barring, of course, unforeseen pot-holes, underground and ocean tunnels and unforeseeable costs.

As for the metallurgists, the arch opponents of geologists, it is a Pandora’s Box of refractory ores and locked-up secrets of extractive metallurgy, playing with fire and poisons of arsenic and cyanide. A series of feverish nightmares at the laboratories would often end with a nasty curse on the geologists: ‘Next time, for God’s sake, find some decent, clean ore bodies of mineralised veins or stockworks without all those nasties and payable dirt of mother earth.’ And to the alchemist, it is a perpetual purple dream of fairies touching and turning all base metals into gold.

But to high society ladies, men in the street, sophisticated aristocrats, artists, goldsmiths, jewellers and poor Indian women customarily wearing almost all the gold they have while cleaning the parks and streets, gold is a metal of art, of superb and everlasting beauty. To the archaeologists, it supplies millions of artifacts and a vista of past and present civilisations.

And finally to the economists, gold has been an irreplaceable, international standard against which the wealth of a nation is measured and pegged and an imperishable clearing medium for balancing international accounts. Sometimes irrationally, the fluctuations in the price of gold can be affected by sentiment. World events—peace, war, stories of insider trading, ‘manipulations’ by governments central banks or fluctuations in baskets of floating currencies, the supply and demand of gold, national gold reserves, deaths of presidents or world leaders and financial or sex scandals in high places—all have extraordinary effects on the price of gold.

To the world at large, the mistaking of glittering fool’s gold, pyrite, for real glittering gold, has been a perpetual source of humour in after-dinner anecdotes about amateur prospectors and all-excited-for-nothing prospective purchasers of glittering gold properties generally buying pigs in a poke, as all that glitters is not gold.

*     *     *

In Bau town in Sarawak, located to the north-west of Borneo, an island abounding in exotic mystery, this precious metal, gold, was discovered in the seventeenth century.

In fact, as early as the fourth century A.D., the early Hindu and Chinese traders knew of the occurrence of gold on the island of Borneo. Gold artifacts and ornaments later found in archaeological sites, including a human figure mysteriously set into a boulder of rock of debatable origin near the village of Santubong at the mouth of the Sarawak River, were basically associated with Hindu ornaments and Chinese pottery dating back to the twelfth century even before Admiral Rahman (Cheng Hoe) from China set foot on the island of Borneo. Patches of alluvial and eluvial gold were found in the creeks of Santubong mountain, but there is no conclusive evidence that ornaments were moulded and crafted from local gold.

However, regular mining of gold by the Chinese Ho-Shun Kongsi, Lan-Gang Kongsi and sixteen other smaller kongsi in the Sambas, Mandor and Montrado districts, and in Kalimantan, in Dutch Borneo, south-west of Bau, began in about 1750. Subsequently, for political and other reasons, four thousand of these Chinese left for Sarawak in the early eighteenth century.

The Chinese could have arrived in Borneo, referred to in old chronicles as ‘Poni’, in A.D. 1225. Relics in Santubong at the mouth of the Sarawak River would suggest a small but flourishing trading post there in years past.

From known historical records, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, the first group of enterprising Kongsi members from Sambas District, sniffed, its way with unbelievable precision and chased the golden trail of alluvial and eluvial gold that finally ended at Bau gold-mining town. Many others followed after battles between the Dutch and the Ta-Kang Kongsi.

After this struggle, the retreat of the Ta-Kang Kongsi into the rival San-Tiao-Quo Kongsi’s territory had forced about four thousand members of the latter Kongsi to take flight from Sambas, Mandor and Montrado to Bau, Sarawak, via Kampong Loke Mang. These people later became the pioneers in antimony mining in the early 1800s, near Paku and Buso and a few years later in gold mining in Bau Lama (old Bau). This group eventually formed the Twelve Kongsi in Bau.

Another group, made up of five hundred Hoppo Hakka went through Tebakang to establish the Fifteen Kongsi in Engkilili, because in a trance, a medium had told them that it would be safer for them in the future. This prediction did eventually come to pass. Dutch harassment forced this group of less aggressive Kongsi to move to Engkilili quickly. These immigrants, often labelled as ‘sinkeh’—new arrivals—almost all of them Hakkas (Khek), were generally peasants and country dwellers who had come a long way originally from four districts in Kwantung Province, China—Tapu, Chia Ying (Kei Hsien), Huilai (Halu-Feng) and Kityang (Hoppo).

The Hakka kongsi then became involved in co-operative mining ventures, undertaken by groups of miners, which merged individual interests under a concept of brotherhood to form friendly societies. Each kongsi had about two hundred members, its own administrative rules and, symbolically, a Head in every Kongsi-house. The Kungfu Master, Liu Shan Pang, who headed a ‘kongsi’ of his own, joined with eleven other ‘kongsi’ to form the famous ‘Twelve Kongsi’ in Bau. They were economically so powerful that for years they held the exclusive right to import opium and arrack—a Chinese grog—into Bau.

Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism had all permeated the culture of the overseas Chinese, wherever they went. The far-reaching impact of these three philosophies, three ways of life, but two religions, on the overseas Chinese in Sarawak, was indeed considerable. In the early stage of immigration, ‘sinkeh’, had a derogatory connotation until they had made good their financial and social status to become ‘overseas Chinese’ in Nanyang (mainly South East Asia)—a more respectable reference.

The Chinese from China, at sporadic intervals, founded their new homes in Sarawak via different routes despite the seldom-enforced imperial edict forbidding large-scale emigration. During the late eighteenth century, the hard-pressed refugees from the Chinese Kongsi, and gold prospectors, mostly Hakkas, traced the golden trail from Sinkawang, Dutch Borneo, across to Bau. The more fortunate and generally better off artisans, agriculturalists, tradesmen with their friends and relatives sponsored individually or by groups of Teochew, Hokkien, Cantonese, Lu Chu, Hakka (Khek), Hylam, Foochow, or by the White Rajahs, dominated the business scene from Kuching to Samarahan and remote stations east.

Over the tortuous routes, packed like sardines in overcrowded ships, came the bonded class of poor farmers forced into contracted or indentured labour recruited initially like slaves through private purchase; later they came via Singapore attracted by the improved conditions offered by the Brooke government to work in the Sadong coalfields. Some were enticed into tackling new frontiers of agronomy in the Rajang Basin amidst voracious rats, irritating scorpions, deadly snakes and hostile headhunters with their unclear and arbitrary native customary rights and boundaries. For the Rajahs, there was often a presumption of fact and law in favour of the natives as far as customary rights over land were concerned.

Trade, education, religion and communal organization kept the Chinese of various dialects in contact with the unique Chinese cultural tradition, customs and colourful festivals, with some adaptation to the local context. It must not be forgotten that the yellow ethnic seeds left behind in the innocent-looking and simple native maidens of Borneo, quite similar to the legacies of the Kadazans in British North Borneo and the Minadonese in North Celebes, better known later on as Sulawesi, bore fruits of hybrid culture that fostered tolerance and cultural self-discipline and resilience.

In accordance with the strict Chinese mining tradition, the kongsi had brought along the Buddha, the Joss, and a host of Chinese deities such as Kwan Yin, Goddess of Mercy, Tua Pek Kong, Kwan Kung, San San Kuo Wang and many others for protection and luck to complement the local spirits of the trees, hills and stones including Datok Kong and Datok Ma, worshipped by the immigrants, local Dayaks and other natives of Borneo. Christianity co-existed with other religions to a great degree. However, no other religions dared to interfere with the followers of Islam, as that taboo was tantamount to an imperial edict from the Rajah Brookes.

The demographic pattern of the Chinese population followed the Brookes’ administrative policies, land schemes and development being offered with the promise of an economic return and social acceptance in remote areas.

Legend has it that in early 1810, a Chinese geomancist, by the name of Loh Kok Ming, predicted excellent feng shui or geomancy for gold in Gunung Krian, Mausan (Bau Lama) and the surrounding areas of Bau. The Bau people still remember the geomancist’s prediction of pots of gold buried near the dragonlike Bau limestone hills. But no one knew exactly where and when they would be revealed.

From a distance, looking in a south-west direction, the three-mile long rugged Bau limestone formation, with its row of peaks, resembled a Chinese dragon with a marked dorsal; and both of the hills, the one on the left, under the name of Tai Parit-Mausan, and the one on the right, the Bekajang hill, answered the description of the two ‘paws’ of this dragon. About a hundred yards away from the head of the dragon was located the small round Pearl Hill—later better known as the ‘Ghost’ Cave—to the north-east, like the proverbial pearl in front of the Chinese Dragon, who forever was chasing but never quite getting it.

True to description and prediction, gold was discovered at the ‘paws’ of that ‘dragon’ namely in the Mausan/Tai Parit mines, near the ‘belly’ of the ‘dragon’ at Saburan and the Tai Ton gold mines and at the ‘tail’ of the dragon, in the Bidi gold mines. History proved the geomancist to be right regardless of any geology he actually knew.

Whether it was the nauseating smell of arsenopyrite or perhaps decomposed human or vegetable matter, the early settlers had certainly left behind a memorable legacy with self-explanatory names such as ‘Bau’ and ‘Buso’ meaning ‘bad smell’ and ‘rotten stench’ respectively.

Luckily, undaunted by ‘South Sea Bubbles’, the blustering gales or typhoons, the insidiously feverish malaria and still rampant headhunting of Sarawak, some Scottish merchants, whether from itching palms on their sporrans or the indomitable spirit of commercial adventure, and with Scottish acumen, set out to spread their wings over Sarawak under the White Rajah James. The higher the risks, the greater the gains. With the blessing of Rajah James, the Borneo Chartered Company Limited, commonly known as the Borneo Company, was set up in 1856 to monopolise trade in Sarawak, much along the lines and philosophy of the East India Company, which has always competed with the Dutch for the flag and trade but seldom co-existed with them as equals.

In the Sambas District, over in Dutch Borneo, South of Sarawak, the old system of duties on gold was paid to the Sultans by weight percentage. But that same idea imposed by the first White Rajah, for collecting this sinew of war or ‘chukai kepala’, head tax, from the Bau Kongsi arbitrarily without any physical head count, and further aggravated by the unjust and arbitrary imposition of a tax on opium, was considered as the final straw by the Chinese Twelve Kongsi. This culminated in the bloody Bau Chinese uprising of 1857. Much to the inconvenience and annoyance of the first White Rajah, James Brooke, for four days this Englishman’s castle, ‘The Astana’ compound, containing his wooden bungalow The Grove, was seized, and burnt down, by the rebels led by Kungfu Master Liu Shan Pang, who drank the Rajah’s Scotch whisky as legitimate booty.

In 1857, legend has it that the Trojan horse appeared again dressed up in drums of ‘arrack’ or samsu, which had a comparable knockout effect to ‘tuak’, a sweet and whitish Dayak spirit—deadly! This was sent by the White Rajah as an English olive branch, but sadly misinterpreted by Liu Shan Pang as a true gentleman’s gift meant for a night of revelry; it caused the rebels to lose their heads and their ‘kingdom’.

The Chinese gold town, Bau, was burnt down on 24th February 1857—amazingly by Rajah James Brooke and Charles Brooke. But Bau was a phoenix, burnt down only to rise again from the ashes with stronger walls of concrete instead of kapur or meranti timber. Slowly, more Hakka and Hokkien with some Cantonese returned in dribs and drabs to rebuild Bau. The influence of the Chinese kongsi was still there. Gambling, opium smoking, goldmining, market gardening and small-scale farming were typical occupations.

The Kongsi created a great impact in the history of gold mining in Bau. The failure of the Chinese freedom fighting in 1857 paved the way for a monopoly of mining of antimony and gold by the Borneo Company. Every Kongsi that survived then became automatically suspected of association with illegal secret societies such as the Tien Ti Hueh or Sam Tien Hueh.

There were other reasons for the Kongsi losing their pre-eminence. New technology, big capital outlays, professional management and an economic scale of operation to extract microscopic, locked-up and non-refractory gold ores in Bau became absolutely necessary. Two central treating plants were shown to be ideal for treating hard-rock gold ores, as alluvial gold in the alluvial flats and limestone crevices had been almost cleaned out over the decades.

First, the Borneo Company had to secure the right technology from the Scottish inventor, J.S. MacArthur, better known as the father of modern cyanidation gold processing. Before the invention of MacArthur’s cyanidation process for recovering gold from non-refractory gold bearing ores, many deposits around Bau with microscopic gold still remained unmined and unprocessed. These deposits occurred as auriferous veins, pinching and swelling most of the time, with various grades and volumes, and often with no trace of a beginning and no prospect of an end in Bau’s complex geological setting, where the Bau Limestone—Pedawan Shale Formations—had been intruded by mid-Miocene intrusives and porphyry stocks.

At first, the Chinese crushed the ores tediously with chisels and hammers. In 1882, the Borneo Company set up a stamp mill at Bau to crush ores with coarse gold collected from different mining sites. Pumping engines were made available to enable the eluvial working to be carried out below the water table. Mining equipment and limited financial assistance were made available by the Company to assist small Chinese, Malay and Land Dayak prospectors and operators. Inevitably, the Borneo Company brought all these small-scale operators under its grip and slowly into its pocket.

Luck was with the Borneo Company, as very little was spent on exploration in the Bidi, Tai Parit, Boon Swee Pee and Mausan areas. Moreover, the company had men with undying perseverance and vision. The mine manager for the Borneo Company’s mines at Bau and Bidi, a Scottish mining engineer by the name of Henry MacEwen, had just concluded an extremely good deal with the Liew family. The Company had bought out the main mining interests of the Liews by 1897. The potential of Tai Parit gold deposit looked extremely good in the limestone and shale contact zones. No exploration was carried out; no drilling either. Tai Parit Hill, south-east of the Mausan area, was about three hundred yards south-south-east of Bau. According to Chinese geomancy, a position to the south-east would generally be a good location. Their golden formula of success was the right time, the right place and the right people. Most of the gold mines found were so far located to the south and south-east of Mausan (Bau Lama).

The present Bau town is north-north-east of Tai Parit mine. The old Bau town (Bau Lama) was immediately north of Tai Parit and it was reduced to ashes without much trace except for the half-broken belian flagpole of the old ‘Twelve Kongsi’, still standing solitary after all these years by the temple of ‘Sun Su Lung Kung’ which was proudly maintained by the Bau people. To thank the deity for revealing the dream of rich gold deposits at Tai Parit to them, the Liew family erected a concrete monument enclosing a rich boulder of Tai Parit ore near the temple. Notwithstanding the not always smooth relations between them, the Borneo Company was always blessed by the Rajahs with an unbroken monopoly of trade in Sarawak until 1946 (except for the traditional Chinese trading operations between Singapore and Sarawak). No other foreign trading concern was allowed a branch or a flagpost there.

Right in the heart of Bau, Bong Kueh Liew, a Hakka, headed the most powerful Chinese Kongsi; followed by Kong Sie Chan, a newcomer, heading a Cantonese Kongsi. Both gold miners in their own right, they were now competing to be contractors to the Borneo Company gold-mining operations as well as mining gold for themselves.

The advent of the steamship in replacing sail and the opening of the Suez canal brought the P & O Company, the Ocean Steamship Company (the Blue Funnel line) and others to open up new shipping lanes to Singapore and the Far East. With the Straits Steamship Company being founded in 1890, the vital weekly feeder service from Singapore to Sarawak and British North Borneo was established.

The monopolistic position of the Borneo Company became possible only through the protection afforded by the White Rajahs; they had actually founded the nationhood of Sarawak by accident rather than by design. Their dream, though punctuated with dramatic nightmares and anxious moments and episodes of human drama, eventually became a reality, a fait accompli and rich tradition, part of the colourful history of Sarawak.

Those European rulers, merchants, adventurers, missionaries and naval officers who roamed along the pirate-infested coastal waters of Sarawak, northwest of Borneo, who never failed to be charmed and intrigued by Sarawak and the island of Borneo, were living at an extraordinary juncture of history.

*     *     *

There can be no doubt, the Chinese were first-class survivors in Nanyang, Australia, America and elsewhere on the goldmining scene and in other business circles. Slowly and patiently they worked themselves up from slaves, peasants, shoe-shiners, helpers in laundry shops and restaurants and small provision shops, to make good in life, as successful as the Jews, though they suffered similar penalties and branding for their fame and fortune.

The Chinese never set up colonies like the western nations and never had any imperial dreams or overseas ambitions. History bears witness to that. Contrary to the western concept of territorial acquisition by conquest or gunboat diplomacy and the philosophy of superimposing their values on foreign soil, even Rahman Cheng Hoe, following the Chinese philosophy of Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism, never imposed imperialism on his trips to East Africa, the Persian Gulf and East Asia. The Chinese believed that it was up to foreigners to learn about Chinese culture and assimilate whatever they found practical and spiritual into their own cultures. Chinese traders and merchants went overseas to exchange silk, cloth and other goods for birds’ nests, spices and other products, but not to conquer and colonise the host.

No doubt, this attitude provided a safety valve for racial tension and a platform for racial integration, albeit often painfully, slowly and carefully, in an evolutionary process where each age always revolted against its predecessor. In the Peranakan culture, the Babas and Nonyas were the legacies of the princesses and Chinese maidens sent abroad, for example to Malacca and the Sri Vijaya Empire, for marriage.

In Bau, the Chinese started the large scale alluvial goldmining operations while the casual Malay and Land Dayak workers learned the trade too.

In their own little way, through trade and social intercourse, through fierce and ruthless competition, through their simple credit and bartering system, the Chinese pioneers and other early settlers contributed greatly to the development and prosperity of Sarawak.

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Prologue

V ery good, lah! Mrs Young. Good for your health. Our bird’s nest comes from the birds’ nests in Jambusan caves near Bau. It’s made from the saliva of a special breed of swiftlets in the caves. The Chinese believe that bird’s nest is very good for the lungs and heart.’ Bong was in his customary charming mood.

‘Oh, thank you, Mr Bong! I would like to pass this one, if I may. I simply can’t eat anything that is spat from the mouth of a bird,’ replied Mrs Young.

‘Don’t worry, lah! Mrs Young. Don’t you ever eat eggs?’ asked Bong again inquisitively.

‘Why, of course I do. Why do you ask?’

‘Well, in that case, don’t feel bad about bird’s nest. Compared to where the eggs come from, bird’s nest is very much cleaner!’ Bong replied with a faint smile, half squinting his eyes.

Mrs Young blushed and felt helpless—she nearly fainted from embarrassment.

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Chapter 1

Gold, to dentists,

is a finishing touch of crowning glory

T he early morning mist crowned the lonely peaks of Gunong Serambu and Gunong Sirenggok with white haloes of cloud, mirroring the Sarawak dawn. Below the saddle, the luxuriant growth of a mossy green canopy with patches of grey escarpments and laterite-coloured boulders, gradually became more visible as the rays of the rising sun penetrated the thick cover of mist which evaporated little by little under its glow.

Against the grey, predawn sky, away in the distance with its perpetual changing colours and celestial settings, rose the first streaks of the fresh morning sun. Shooting across a small gold town in Sarawak called Bau, hidden in the almost totally unexplored northwest region of the mysterious island of Borneo, across the misty Kalimantan border, across the horizon and beyond the last morning star, the sun gradually transformed itself from lacquer orange to golden orange.

The sleepy town of Bau lay twenty-four miles from Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, a unique country ruled by the powerful white Rajah Brookes.

Along the Sarawak Kanan River, a few hundred yards north of Bau town, the misty air was filled with the titillating, fresh, floral fragrance of the lily-white Bunga Cempaka. Legend had it that a beautiful fairy princess who lived at the end of the rainbow, imbued with this sweet floral scent of Bunga Cempaka worn on her ears, had seduced all the men who happened to inhale its irresistible fragrance, which was as magical and bewitching as the enchanting music of the Pied Piper of Hamelin.

At the water’s edge, dark grey and weather-beaten rocks soon glistened in the low morning light while surrounding mosses and lichens and aesthetically gnarled branches sparkled with morning dew like a myriad of tiny quartz crystals. Several kingfishers dived and splashed in the tranquil river, wreathing patterns of concentric and wavering ripples while preying on their early breakfast.

In the surrounding jungle, the fresh morning air was filled with a wild, haunting, primordial music, music from the invisible orchestra of nature, ranging from the low double bass of the frogs to the shrilling untuned violin-pitch of the cicadas with ever-changing chords, keys and tunes supported by a chorus of chirps, yeeps, twitters, whirrs, whistles and howling. All the ‘singers’ were more concerned with raising their volume rather than the key or quality of their voices; all the ‘singers’ felt free to join in or drop off any time. Such was their free spirit. All they needed, perhaps, was a conductor!

Along came the greatest and most fearsome predator of all time: man. Riding along the slow-moving water downstream, two body-tattooed Dayaks in a dugout canoe paddled along wearing the ‘tahup’ or ‘chawat’—their traditional garb of daily life. This is a neat wrapping of maroon cloth over the groin to keep their dangling assets cool and to prevent them from catching a chill or suffering an insect bite. Certainly, a ‘chawat’ is more elegant and safer than the threatening ‘holim’ gourd or sheath, worn over the groin by the male in New Guinea.

One, armed with a forked spear and a small fishing net, was standing alert on the bow as if his life depended on it, focusing all his senses on the fish below, gliding through the transparent water through which rose pearly bubbles. The other, with great manual dexterity, stealthily positioned the canoe near the shallow water with his oar to give his partner the best possible shot.

‘Odi, odi… ikien, ikien… come, come… fish, fish…’ was silently chanted by both men. It sounded like the chanting of ‘bomohs’—the traditional witch doctors and medicine men.

They brought along mankind’s arsenal of horrors: fish hooks with different sized barbs; fishing lines of different thickness; fish knives; fish slicers; leads of different weights; a ‘jala’ fishing net; parangs; duck-shaped wooden floaters attached to fishing lines; a club; bamboo fish snares; poisonous tuba liquid for stunning fish; and even sticks of dynamite and guns as a last resort!

Now they waited, patient but alert, under the strengthening sun, their faces, bare backs, necks, hands and legs, like polished mahogany, flashing and glittering, dazzlingly indistinct to the naked eye. So engrossed were they looking for fish that they felt no pain from the sunburn nor boredom in their pursuit of this simple daily life.

These two innocent-looking, but nevertheless, superstitious natives only dared to leave their homes and venture out on the river, because some ‘Singalang Burong’ birds of good omen—Brahminy Kites—had warbled a favourable morning ditty, signalling that the coast was clear and promising that a good day for a profitable outing was at hand.

There are secrets in the river as numerous and surprising as in the tropical rainforest with its herbal medicines and poisons, and as there are beneath the soil and inside the rocks. Man has to learn to respect the river, the rainforest, the soil and the rocks, love them and try to understand them, just like understanding or learning the secrets of a woman. Patience is always necessary and rewards often come only little by little.

Some natural resources are perpetually renewable; others not. Whether used to the best greatly depends on man’s understanding, care and conservation of nature. Nature could reward mankind more than man would ever know.

Mother nature holds myriads of secrets many of which are only unlocked by accidental discoveries or sheer trial and error. Some secrets man would never discover by feats of speculation or deduction. Newton discovered the law of gravity; Darwin propounded the theory of the origin and natural selection of species that had eluded his predecessors; geologists speculated on the genetic models of gold mineralisation; and these fishermen were still learning about the habits and habitat of the kaloi, carp, lecor and other slimy fish.

These simple natives envied the very victims of their hunting, as ‘no human being, however great, or powerful, was ever so free as a fish.’ They were always in fear of the proverbial ‘Bujang S’enang’ and his relatives—crocodiles that lurked among the mature foliage by the water’s edge, spawning so many legends and myths for so long that no man could remember when they began. One such legend, the most popular version, was that one day an outsider being chased by a pack of Sea Dayak warriors had no way of escaping except by jumping into the water of Batang Lupar. His spirit was transformed into the most intelligent, elusive, crafty and terrifying crocodile that ever lived, which vowed that he and his offspring would attack the Dayaks near or under the murky water, at wooden bridges, from underneath canoes and at the edge of the forest. This legend originated somewhere near Simanggang in the Second Division of Sarawak.

Like any optimistic geologist, gold miner or metallurgist, these two hunters on land and on the water constantly dreamt of a better and luckier tomorrow, with more fish, bigger fish and other birds and animals too.

As with all fishermen, their real dilemma was whether to leave the canoe; if they caught one fish, it might be the start of a massive haul; if they left the canoe they might have left just too early; or, they could end up spending the whole day without a single fish to show for it.

*     *     *

Quiet and peaceful as Bau was, yet there was an unusual event that had stirred the simple folks of the town: one of the local ex-miners had been charged in Kuching for indecent exposure and sexual offences in the Brooke Dockyard in Kuching.

On 12 May 1898, the Supreme Court at Kuching, by the Sarawak River and opposite the Astana where the White Rajahs resided, was packed with people from all walks of life, colours and creeds—Chinese, Malays, Sea Dayaks, Land Dayaks and the Rajah’s European officers.

At eight o’clock in the morning, Rajah Charles, the second White Rajah of Sarawak, alighted from the boat at Pangkalan Batu and walked briskly towards the Supreme Court. The Rajah wore a blue serge coat and white trousers, a magenta-coloured puggaree round his white helmet and a buttonhole of honeysuckle.

Over his head was a big yellow umbrella carried by the Royal umbrella carrier, a tall Malay named Busu, who also happened to be the State Executioner. Rajah Charles was the head of everything. He was the head of the police, the Sarawak Rangers, the head of the Sarawak Government and of the final Court of Appeal in Sarawak.

In his private chambers, after glancing through the list of cases up for ‘petition’ for trial, the Rajah addressed Mr Bampfylde, the Resident of the First Division or province, based in Kuching: ‘Would you be kind enough to fix up the hearing for the two murder cases and the cases on land dispute and tribal dispute? Now, I will listen personally to Tikus’ case on the charge of immoral and obscene acts committed in the Brooke Dockyard in Kuching.’ The Rajah winked cheerfully at the Resident and Stephen.

Stephen Young, freshly graduated from Cambridge University and the son of the new chief metallurgist of the Borneo Company, had been invited by the Rajah to follow the trial, to learn something about the Brookes’ way of dispensing justice. The Resident, a tall and heavy-looking man, endowed with a pair of intelligent dog’s eyes and a diamond-shaped face, couldn’t believe his ears! Tikus’ was a petty case. Why did His Highness want to hear it? Perhaps because the good name of the Brookes or the Brooke Dockyard was involved.

‘Yes, yes, Your Highness. I’ll rearrange the hearing list straightaway.’

The Resident raised his eyebrows and dropped his monocle. Had the French air or can-can show transformed His Highness? he wondered. Had his recent trip to Paris affected his mind?

The court clerk’s gavel struck the table three times. Everyone present stood up and bowed like schoolchildren to their headmaster, as Rajah Brooke made a powerful and dignified entry into the silent courtroom. He sat on the high chair, serious and formal, with cold, unnerving and piercing eyes. Stephen sat inside the courtroom, quite unused to the legal system and its outward informality. The court clerk then rose respectfully and announced the case of an offence against public morals being committed in the Brooke Dockyard.

‘Your Highness, we will proceed with the case of Police vs Tikus and others. The Dayaks from upper Sarawak, the accused and the police prosecutor are already in court.’

‘Good! What are we waiting for then?’ inquired the Rajah.

In the Rajah’s courtroom, the Resident, four Malay Datuks and two Dayak chiefs were there to assist the Rajah, whenever required, on the local mores, customs and Adat laws. A few interpreters were on standby.

The police prosecutor, Vincent Gould, a trim young officer in white ducks who had been in service for less than a year, rose and bowed meekly before His Highness.

‘May it please Your Highness that I am acting for the prosecution in the case of Tikus and others. The charge is indecent exposure and obscenity. Tikus and his friend, Andang, have confessed their guilt, namely, having carnal knowledge in the afternoon at Kuching Brooke Dockyard on the top of a pile of wooden planks inside the dockyard. They were arrested and charged accordingly. Here are the full written statements of their confessions. The accused are presently in the courtroom. Before that, would Your Highness like to see these documents?’

The Rajah nodded. Soon these statements were sent up for his perusal. Yes, that was what I thought, the Rajah said to himself.

‘Just one thing. Is there any other witness to this alleged offence at the time when this offence was alleged to have been committed?’ asked the Rajah. He knew that Tikus probably had little idea of the law and would sign anything if induced or threatened by the police, and doubted whether the defendants really understood their statements or the implications. The Rajah always took note of the cultural background of the accused.

‘Yes… Razak bin Ali is here, he is a watchman in the Brooke Dockyard.’

‘Is the accused defending himself?’

‘Yes…’

‘Now, ask the accused to stand up.’

Accordingly, the accused repeated the oath of telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth in his own language.

Through an interpreter, the Rajah asked the question himself.

‘Tuan Tikus… can you read and write?’

‘Tidak dapat. Cannot, Tuan Rajah.’

‘Are you just speaking for yourself or also for your lady friend?’ the Rajah asked softly to the amazement of the spectators and officials in court.

‘She has asked me to speak on her behalf.’

‘Good, Tikus… now tell me in simple terms… why did you do it?’ His eyes twinkled with humour, softened with kindness.

‘Because it was so hot that afternoon,’ came the astounding reply through the interpreter.

‘What has the heat to do with the public exhibition of yourself and your lady friend?’

‘It’s the season of the year—I am sorry, one of those things in life—when sometimes my emotional urge is on the high tide. I saw nobody inside the Brooke Dockyard so we did it, just as we sometimes do in the wilds,’ averred Tikus.

‘Why in God’s name in the Brooke Dockyard?’

‘I thought nobody was around during the lunch break!’

‘Did anybody see you doing it?’

‘I only found out later on that a guard by the name of Razak was there peeping and enjoying the live show…’

‘Did you damage any property?’

‘No… absolutely not… everything was left intact as before!’

‘No more questions.’

Now Razak, after telling the court what he saw in the Brooke Dockyard at the relevant time, was cross-examined by the Rajah himself, who took a soft approach to begin with.

‘What were you doing there, Mr Razak?’

‘Jagah! Watching and guarding, Tuan Rajah… !’

‘Watching what?’

‘The premises, the property inside the Brooke Dockyard.’

‘Didn’t you go for lunch?’

‘No… I saw them sneaking through one of the side doors, and so I quickly followed them and hid myself.’

‘What else did you see?’

‘I saw them… one on top of the other…’

‘When did you challenge them?’

‘After they finished the live tiger show!’

‘Why not before? You could have prevented it! Couldn’t you?’

‘Well, Your Highness, I wanted to be sure that what they were going to do was what I had suspected!’ Razak was rather pleased with himself at the way the case was developing so far.

‘In other words, you let it happen or wanted it to happen…’

‘Not exactly…’

‘You could have stopped them if you wanted to, since they had no business to be there.’

‘Yes… but…’

‘But you were dying to watch a real tiger show. Isn’t that correct, Razak?’

‘Not… exactly…’

‘But you could have stopped them after they stripped themselves partially or fully. Isn’t that right? Just answer the question! Just answer me yes or no.’ The Rajah raised his voice.

‘Yes… Tuan Rajah.’

‘In fact, you wanted to watch them rather than guarding the property of the Brooke Dockyard. Isn’t that right?’

The Rajah appeared to have taken the role of the defence counsel. The police prosecutor sat there gasping with amazement, wondering whether the Rajah was the judge or the defence counsel cross-examining or rather persecuting the prosecutor’s witness.

‘Yes… but not exactly that way…’

‘In brief, you wanted them to do it… you wanted to watch a free live tiger show! Isn’t that right?’ repeated the Rajah.

The witness kept his head low, staring mute and awestruck, totally unprepared for this line of gruelling cross-examination.

‘That means yes, doesn’t it? Anyway, where were you hiding at the relevant time… ?’ Now the Rajah was in his stride. ‘Behind one of the wooden crates? Doors? Machinery?’

‘Yes, behind the crates,’ the frightened witness answered in a low voice, barely audible.

‘Where were the accused and his lady partner at that relevant time?’

‘On top of the planks…’

‘Did you object to their performance?’

Razak was lost for an answer.

‘I thought so! In fact, you rather enjoyed it! And you waited patiently until the full performance was over. Didn’t you?’

The Rajah’s long fierce stare so terrified the witness that he forgot the question. The brusque, stout, commanding, elderly gentleman presiding over the Supreme Court had a white moustache, full and long, very striking on his small thin face. Without doubt, he was a dominating personality. He was balding slightly in front, with thinning, silky, wavy white hair curled round his ears and the back of his head. But what held the court’s attention was his high forehead, and his grey penetrating eyes—one of which was the eye of an albatross implanted to replace that lost in an accident—deep set under his bushy brows.

Razak nodded but did not reply. He could not understand why the Rajah was siding with the accused.

‘Just answer me, Razak. Did you object?’

‘No… Tuan Rajah.’

‘I thought so!’ he murmured to himself again. ‘You rascal!’

‘Now did they do any damage?’ the Rajah asked again with his eyes appearing terribly piercing in anger, hard as steel and cold as ice.

Razak was utterly dumbfounded. The Rajah repeated the question and the interpreter who did not quite understand the question repeated it literally for everybody’s benefit.

‘I mean, did they destroy or damage any property on the premises, for example the machinery, doors anything?’

‘Tidak… no.’

Razak was then asked to be seated. At this point, the prosecutor was quickly up on his feet.

‘Now Mr Prosecutor, would you like to inform me what damage Mr Tikus and his lady friend did to the Brooke Dockyard?’ The Rajah wanted to cut a long story short.

‘Your Highness, what do you mean exactly?’

‘I mean… is there any specific or general damage to the property?’

‘I am not sure… could I beg your indulgence, Your Highness? Could I ask for a short adjournment? I want to have a word with my junior officers and Mr Razak.’

His request was granted.

After a few minutes, the prosecutor was asked to proceed with his case.

‘Yes, Your Highness… which property?’

‘Any property? For example, the wood or the planks rather…’

‘Not really, perhaps, a few stains…’

‘What? A few stains! That was not in the evidence at all! Is that fresh evidence you are bringing in? Is there any proof of that?’

‘Not really… Your Highness… we believe that there could be a few stains on the planks.’

‘How would you know? Did anyone of you see it? That’s not good enough. Did you check the stains? What kind of stains were they? Any colour? Any smell? Any description? White, red, brown… anything? Anyway, where are those planks now?’

‘We don’t know… Your Highness. We believe the planks have been used or disposed of!’

‘You mean all the evidence and exhibits are no longer in existence nor identifiable!’

‘Yes, that’s quite right… but, but, Your Highness, if I may draw your kind attention to the charges… actually… the charges relate to public morality, indecent exposure, obscenity… in public.’

‘Now, Mr Prosecutor can you tell me whether the Brooke Dockyard is a public or private place? Can any Dick, Tom and Harry get in or out any time he pleases?’

‘No…