But knowing something of the previous relations between the Sakais and the people surrounding them I was put on my guard against certain exaggerated and prejudiced reports and felt strongly tempted to try and dissipate the vague mystery—that I somehow guessed was based upon self-interest—in which they wished to envelop the Mai Darats.
The more they told me about them the more I felt attracted towards the Sakais, it seeming to me that a people so foreign to every light of civilization, so bold as they were described to be, so free from every regime or authority, must needs afford an interesting study to one who sought to know them at close quarters. Perhaps, when once I had overcome the, not always surmountable, difficulty of getting into their company, I might find amongst them a tranquil life and settle down in their midst as a planter or agriculturist for I was already convinced that I was unfitted for commercial enterprises in which very often scruples of conscience and uprightness are encumbrances.
My brief sojourn in civilized society made me long for the freedom and peace which, may be, awaited me there; I longed to know intimately these people who, I reasoned to myself, must be exempt from corruption as they were so much hated by those who lived in its midst, and who were surrounded by so much mystery.
There was, I must confess, another reason that helped to draw me towards the Sakai camps. I know not how the germ took root, but in my brain the conviction was always growing that in the heart of the Peninsula, already proved to be rich in metals, a gold vein might be discovered.
The Virgilian auri sacra fames took possession of me little by little, solved every remaining doubt, conquered all my hesitations and removed every obstacle.
This impetus united with the longing for new adventures, for profound emotions, for a life far different in every respect to that I was then passing in a sphere of elegant slavery, imposed by ridiculous conventionalisms, decided me, and I packed up my baggage.
Just imagine: a strong piece of tarred canvas to be converted into a camp-bed by means of four wooden pegs; a hat, four shirts and some woollen undervests, a few pairs of trousers and socks, some very light canvas shoes, and one or two khaki jackets as used by the soldiers in Africa.
I did not forget though that it was very possible to catch some sort of illness and as in those parts a malady followed by death may be considered an involuntary suicide but never a homicide because … there are no doctors to cure you, I also provided myself with a small stock of purgative lozenges, quinine, some antiseptic preparations and a bistoury.
Thus having quickly arranged for my new journey and having supplied myself with such elements as would be useful to me under the circumstances, I added to them a large quantity of tobacco and coloured beads—two things that exercise a great power over savages—and bidding farewell to all the culinary delicacies adapted to weak digestions, and turning my back upon all domestic comfort, I started forth towards the Unknown.
A group of Mai Darats, called "Sakais".
p. 8.
Footnotes:
[1] An Italian poet who wrote many humorous verses.—Translator's Note.
CHAPTER II
My escort—By steamer to Telok Anson—The other bank of the Perak—Towards the forest—First news—Blood-letting in the swamp—Robbed and forsaken—Revenge in due time—The Malay's instigation—My little Sam Sam's fidelity—Philosophical reflections under a heavy weight.
The kind reader who peruses these poor pages of notes and memories, accustomed to hear speak of expeditions organised for the purpose of penetrating into inhospitable lands or into regions encompassed by all the terrors of the unknown, will perhaps think that I was jesting when I gave the inventory of my luggage in the last chapter and that from sheer vaunt I did not mention the support of some Geographical or Commercial Society and neither the tons of goods which would follow in my wake, nor the numerous waggons and armed battalion that had to escort me.
No, nothing of all this, for to tell the truth I have always found more harm than good done by these etceteras to an explorer's equipment, and for this reason, even in my most arduous travels, I always set out, as it were, alone, confiding only in my own forces. And let me explain why.
From the very beginning of my wanderings in countries populated by savages, to some of whom is attributed the most sanguinary instincts, I reassured myself by a logical conclusion which experience has shown me to be quite right.
If the fierceness of wild beasts, I reasoned to myself, is nothing else but a paroxysm of fear why should we consider the fierceness of the savages caused by other motives? Man, however wild may be his state, has been endowed with intelligence although in some cases this intellectual faculty is possessed in the smallest possible degree. Let us then make him understand that he has nothing to fear from us and little by little, if our patience does not fail, he will grow more gentle and become a friend instead of an enemy.
Therefore to-day, as well as in the past, I carefully avoid warlike preparations, brigandish masquerades or any escort of a prepotent or menacing appearance. I go ahead like a simple wayfarer, with a smiling face and friendly gestures, leaving my gun (which is indispensable in defending oneself from the attacks of wild beasts) slung over my shoulder.
The first welcome, I admit, is far from being cordial, and there is always the risk of falling into a trap dexterously laid for big game and strangers or of being ably struck by a poisoned dart, but once a meeting has been obtained without any serious consequences accruing, it is not so difficult as it might be supposed to follow it up with a parley, for the feared (and fearing) individual is dumbfounded at the extraordinary double event of either not having killed you or of not having been killed himself, according to the law of reciprocity which for him is inviolable.
Under the impression of this very strange fact he will not oppose resistance to a peaceable understanding and afterwards in order to ensure his friendship there only needs a quick intuition of the poor creature's superstitions, beliefs and susceptibilities and a spirit of precaution against offending his puerile vanity or of in any way provoking jealousy or mistrust.
When he is persuaded that the presence of his undesired guest brings him no evil he will give you his full confidence and spontaneously accept you as a benevolent and powerful protector.
The perils, I grant, are many and great, but greater still are those that lie in wait for an armed traveller. The savage may be terrified and overpowered by the massacres with which civilization asserts its tyrannical superiority but the venom of hatred has entered his soul and he meditates and prepares an ambush which sooner or later, without fail, will give him his revenge.
The use of brutal force (that for me is a political error) is an enormous damage to the study of the customs, beliefs, and psychological peculiarities of the people with whom we are in contact, for they will back out of every enquiry or investigation, will either refuse to respond or will tell you lies, and this accounts for the contradictory reports that different travellers give about the same tribe or race.
This, kind reader, is my modest conviction as, from their