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AMONG THE SAKAIS
CHAPTER I.
Malacca and its contrasts—Devourers of the soul and devourers of the body—The realization of a poet's dream—Temptations—A call from the forest—Auri sacra fames—Baggage—Farewell to civilization.
From the Bay of Bengal and the Gulf of Siam the Malay Peninsula, once known as the Golden Chersonese, jets out into the Indian Ocean like an arm stretched forth to unite once more within its embrace the innumerable isles that belt its coasts and that have probably been severed from the mainland by the combined force of Time and Sea.
In these surrounding islands, some as large as continents, others as narrow as reefs, over which civilization passes in squalls of cupidity, are concealed the strangest contrasts, for whilst around the shore human wolves disguised as civilized men are devouring souls, or (with due observance of the law) are usurping and stealing their neighbour's property and products, (the cleverest and most respected being he who best dissembles his rapacity or who knows how best to substitute unscrupulous shrewdness for industrial activity) not far off towards the centre of these scattered lands other men, in primitive ignorance of the law, are devouring their neighbours' flesh and skin or stealing their live bodies to serve as slaves.
But such curious contrasts are not after all so very striking when one considers that to devour souls and to devour flesh are both natural instincts of Man!
Around the coast of the Peninsula are many flourishing towns where every modern and up-to-date accommodation is to be found. These seaside resorts are thronged with a cosmopolitan population composed of tourists, business men, nabobs and adventurers. There life rolls on in the refined corruption of fashionable society amidst sports and amusements, scandals and intrigues, every race and every tongue contributing its share of good and evil. A motley crowd swarms their streets, presenting to the eye of an onlooker the picturesque spectacle that the contrast of costumes always produces. They are people of different colours, dress and education, attracted thither by the loadstone of wealth. The fortunate, the clever, the unscrupulous have already gained the victory in Life's struggles and now ride about in motor-cars of the newest types; the others look at them, most likely envy them, and work all the harder to get rich themselves. Will they succeed? The way, here is a short one but can only be successfully trodden by those who possess sound energy and blind confidence in their own brains and in their own muscles. It must not be thought, however, that the motor-car is a prerogative, in these parts, of opulent Europeans and Chinese for it is also a powerful auxiliary for those who are striving to make their fortunes through agricultural and mining speculations in the wildest regions of the Peninsula.
But whilst near the sea the inhabitants and travellers can enjoy all the luxuries and conveniences of the 20th century, in the interior of the Peninsula, leading a nomadic life in the thick of the jungle, which covers the range of mountains from north to south, a primitive people still exists. All unconscious of the violent passions and turbulent emotions that disturb the tranquillity of their fellow-creatures (civilized in form if not in fact) at some miles distant from them, they live quietly and peaceably in their forest homes preserving intact their original simplicity and ingenuousness.
The hot breath of our fagging life, that generates every sort of nerve complaint, has not yet reached their mountain haunts. On those wild heights the nerves rest; the affections are not tormented; love is pure and, for this, lasting; ambition neither perverts the mind, nor consumes the conscience; there are no honours or favours to arouse envy; no artificial boundaries to liberty or difficult problems about Capital and Labour; there are no rich and no poor, for in that blessed spot money is an unknown article and what is more—strange triumph of the Savage over the Civilized—every man is a brother to the other!
Up there in the forest there are neither princes nor subjects; Governments nor Police; no Tax-gatherers, public meetings or strikes so that if Stecchetti[1] were still living he might have been sent among the Sakais to find the ideal place of which he was always seeking the address.
The 15th of June 1891 I landed at Penang (the Prince of Wales's Island) on my return from an exploring tour in the Isle of Nias. I was feeling rather worn out with the fatigues lately undergone so resolved to rest awhile on British territory.
I had brought with me a rich and interesting ethnographical collection I found no difficulty in selling to the Perak Government that destined it to the Museum at Taiping, a small town where is the British Residence.
During my well-earned repose I often heard speak of the Mai Darats, a tribe of Aborigines dwelling in the interior of the Peninsula and who were called by the name of Sakais by the Malays, a scornful appellation which signifies a people of slaves, and this insulting term is explained by the fact that formerly their neighbours carried on an extensive slave-trade by making them victims and also took advantage of their simplicity and good faith in many other ways, until the British Protectorate was established and these poor wandering tribes were put upon a par with more civilized races.
I began to gather information concerning these wild men of the bush and learnt that they inhabited the unfrequented parts of the Perak and Pahang States, that they were a nomadic race and that they passed most of their time in the abstraction and preparation of vegetable and animal poisons in which art they were exceptionally expert and that they were equally skilful in