Chapter V: Part 5

When the men had rested, I had them build two litters of boughs--one for the dead man and the other for me. Then we strung the net on three long poles, to be carried by twelve men, and started back to the village. Messengers went on ahead to tell the people of the _kampong_ of our success. I headed the procession; then came the orang-outangs with natives dancing around them and beating tomtoms; then the dead man. It was necessary to stop often to change the crews that were carrying the litters and animals--they weighed over five hundred pounds--and the entire population of Omar's kampong came out to meet us in the jungle before we had covered half the distance. My coolie boy, who had remained at the village, was ahead of them all. He was one of the fastest rickshaw men I have ever seen, and his old training came in handy that day. He wanted to carry me in his arms back to the village, but I told him to run back and put some water on to boil for me.

I left Omar and Munshee in charge of the orangs and had my men hurry ahead with me, for my leg was paining me intensely and I could feel the fever coming on. I had many things to do before I could afford to be sick, and I did not want to lose any time. For one thing, I realized that it would be impossible to get the animals into separate cages and that it would be necessary to build a larger cage before we could take them from the nets. It would be too dangerous to leave them in the nets overnight, for they might chew their way out.

At the village I found that my boy had laid out my medicine kit. I soaked my leg in hot water and massaged it; then we painted it with iodine and bandaged it tight. By the time the procession arrived, I was ready to give Omar and Munshee orders about the new cage.

While the women prepared the feast of chicken, rice and sugar-cakes, the men went into the jungle again and cut logs eight feet long and from six to eight inches in diameter. These they drove two feet into the ground, placing them not more than three inches apart, so as to form a cage eight feet long and three feet wide. Then they bound them together tightly with rattan ropes, and made and lashed down a strong roof of logs. One end of the cage was left open for the animals to enter.

Propped up on my litter, I directed the work; then I was carried while I made a careful inspection of it. When the cage was ready, the orang-outangs were brought up to the open end, the poles were drawn out and the slip-knot of the outer net was loosened. By using poles and working at a respectful distance, the men forced into the cage the single net containing the animals; then they drove the end-bars into the ground and lashed them. Finally, by working between the bars, they loosened the slip-knot of the net and left the orang-outangs free to untangle themselves.

By the time the job was finished, I was exhausted by the fever, and my leg was paining me unbearably. I thanked the men for their good work and was carried back to Omar's house. The people were disappointed that I could not take part in the great celebration they were preparing, and deputations arrived at the house to ask if they could do anything for me. In a hundred different ways they showed their concern for me and their kindness, and I know that they would have dispensed gladly with their merrymaking if I had intimated that the noise might keep me awake. Sleep was, of course, out of the question, but not because of the noise; my leg was puffed and swollen, and the fever was growing worse. Outside, I could hear the people celebrating. The ceremonies began with the funeral of the man that had been killed and they lasted until daybreak.

In the morning I sent for Munshee and told him that it would be necessary for me to go down the river to Sintang, where Dr. Van Erman lived. He selected four of his fastest boatmen and sent them off to the doctor with the message that I was coming. Their orders were that they might stop at Nanaoh-Pinoh to eat, but that they were not to rest until the message was delivered. Just as soon as they were out of the way, Munshee turned to preparing a boat for me; an awning made of palm-leaves was put over the center and a bed arranged.

I left Omar in charge of the orang-outangs, with Ali to assist him. Ali objected to being left behind, but I explained to him that he could be of greatest service to me by staying. He was to see that the orang-outangs were fed and watered and to have the natives trap other animals for me. I instructed Omar to build a shed over the cage and to place a fence around it, so that none of the natives could venture too close.

When my boat was ready, all the people of the kampong were on hand to bid me good-by and wish me a speedy recovery. Munshee steered and six men paddled. Another boat followed with my supplies. I went down the river, thinking that I had never found a kinder, more hospitable people than these, who are known throughout the world as savages and head-hunters.

My fever grew worse and worse and I became delirious. I did not know until later that Munshee urged the men on, hour after hour, until we overtook the messenger boat. The last thing that I remember of the trip was that everything became a blur. The men who were paddling, the river with its green banks, Munshee, the awning over my head and the coolie boy all whirled around and grew indistinct. I was unconscious when we reached Sintang.

Two days later I awoke in Dr. Van Erman's house and was unable for some time to realize where I was and why I was there. The doctor came in and talked with me for a few minutes. He said that I would be well in two weeks and that my leg was not badly damaged. Then I drifted off to sleep again.

The next day I felt stronger, and the doctor repeated some of the tales the natives were telling about the capture of the orang-outangs and the death of the crocodile. The stories had improved with age, and so I told him what had actually happened.

"Mahommed Munshee has been waiting here for you to get well," said the doctor. "I think he'd like to see you--if you don't mind."

Munshee came in, beaming with delight. Taking my hand and pressing it to his forehead, he told me that only one chosen by "God and Prophet" could recover from the fever and the sickness caused by the paw of an orang-outang. All of the villagers, he said, had been making offerings to the different deities for my recovery, and the people would be happy to hear that Tûan was well again. I told him that I would return with him to Omar's kampong within two weeks, and he left, promising to come for me.

The days at Dr. Van Erman's house passed quickly and pleasantly. I found him a thoroughly fine man, as well as a fine doctor, and I enjoyed his companionship. Under his care I rapidly threw off the fever, and my leg healed so that I could get about with little difficulty. The ankle had been dislocated by the grip of the orang-outang's paw, and the tendons badly strained.

By the time Mahommed Munshee came for me, I was quite ready to go up the river. I had seen enough of the country to know that the jungles were full of animals, and I wanted to capture as many as possible before starting back for Singapore. Munshee said that the orang-outangs were in good health and that Omar's men, working with Ali, had made many captures. Dr. Van Erman cashed a draft for me, so that I should have silver money to distribute to the natives who had helped me, and I started up the river, promising to stop on my way down so that the doctor could see the animals.

At Munshee's request, I stopped overnight in his village. The people gave me a royal welcome and we had a fine celebration. The news of my coming went ahead of us, and Omar and Ali came down the river, meeting us two hours' distance below the kampong. They gave me an enthusiastic reception and I was touched by their affection. We rowed on up the river and, when we reached Omar's village, I found that the people had been busy for days, preparing the festivities in honor of my return.

After greeting the people, I went directly to the cage of the orang-outangs. They showed little fight, and I was encouraged to find that they were not too despondent. I did not want to risk transporting them until they had become thoroughly accustomed to captivity--or at least as much accustomed to it as is possible for orang-outangs. For homesickness grips them just as it grips human beings, and they become pitiable objects. If they refuse to eat, it is scarcely worth while to spend time and money in transporting them, for seasickness and the excitement of traveling will kill them. I had been lucky enough to find my captives eating quietly and taking life calmly.

The celebration lasted until dawn, but I excused myself early and went to bed. Omar explained to his people that I would become ill again unless I rested, and they escorted me to the house with all the ceremonious attention that they would have shown to royalty. I did not appreciate at the time quite how near I was to being a royal person in their eyes; but I found out later that Ali, during my absence, had been absolutely shameless in the tales he told about me. I habitually dined with sultans and rajas; I was an exorcist, renowned the world over; I feared no _hantu_ (ghost) and, in addition, to all that, I was a master of _hobatan_ (magic), who, by using his powers, could capture elephants as if they were monkeys. But, apart from Ali's stories, the people liked me because I had engineered the capture of the beasts that had been terrorizing them. And I liked them better than any other people I had met in all my travels.

Before beginning the work of capturing other animals, I turned my attention to preparing the transportation cages. These were three feet wide, three feet high and five and a half feet long--just large enough to hold the orangs, without giving them any chance to wrench at the bars. They sat clutching each other while we placed the transportation cages at each end of the big cage. Occasionally they snarled at us and reached out between the bars. Natives armed with sharpened poles held them back. Then, by poking and prodding, we separated them and ran bars through the center of the big cage. These operations excited the beasts so greatly that we left off work for the day. The next morning we went to the cage again and cut away the end-bars so that the animals could enter their transportation cages. These gave them more room, and I stationed an extra guard over them with instructions to call me immediately if they began to tear at the bars. Ali spent practically all of his time there, talking to them and feeding them. Gradually they became accustomed to him, and, although they were far from accepting him as a friend, they did know him and realize that he was not there to hurt or annoy them. All others, except the headmen and myself, were kept away from the cages.

Food was always placed in the transportation cages, and, since the animals were deprived of each other's company, they became accustomed to spending their time in them. That, of course, was exactly what I wanted, and the prospects looked more encouraging each day.

We spent the next two weeks in trapping and snaring, and I kept the men of the kampong busy all the time, either at collecting the animals or at building cages for them. I was fortunate enough to get one proboscis monkey. It is a rare, long-nosed species, difficult to capture. My standing orders from zoölogical gardens all over the world always included one of these creatures, but this was the only one I ever caught. We found him hopelessly tangled in a net we had put up near a watering place. He was a fine specimen, two feet high, with long arms, legs and tail, and a nose that measured two inches.

Netting animals in the way in which we caught this monkey is one of the easiest and best modes of collecting. The size of the net and of the meshes will depend entirely upon what one hopes to capture. Our nets varied from eight feet square to fifteen feet long by ten feet wide. The meshes measured from two to four inches. The net is placed at a spot where animals are sure to pass; it is suspended across the trail and held in place by light bamboo poles. Leaves and grass are scattered over it until it cannot be distinguished from the ground. When an animal steps into it, the net falls and he begins to struggle instead of quietly, working his way out. Within a minute he has himself so tangled in the meshes that it is sometimes necessary to cut the net to get him out. One great advantage connected with this method of trapping is that the animal is never injured; he simply wears himself out and then, exhausted, stays in the net until some one comes along to release him. A cat animal, for example, comes running into a net; its feet catch and it goes tumbling, rolling over and over, roaring and pawing. In a few seconds it becomes so tangled that it cannot move an inch. Its cries bring the men who have been posted as lookouts, and they carry it back to the kampong on poles.

Contrary to the general idea, cat animals, such as tigers and leopards, are the easiest to catch in traps as well as nets. The work is as simple as baiting a rat-trap and it requires little sagacity. A box-trap with a spring-door will make a catch time after time, with no more trouble than transferring the animal to a transportation cage and rebaiting the trap with a chicken or a small goat. It is wise to allow a fairly long runway between door and bait so that the captive will not be injured when the door springs shut. After recovering from the surprise of finding itself trapped, the animal eats the bait, which supplies it with food until the natives come along on their regular tours of inspection. It is just routine work, involving but little excitement.

Among the animals we captured while working from Omar's kampong were three gibbons, or wahwahs. These are also known as flying gibbons, because they make such long leaps from tree to tree. They are a tailless breed of monkey, rather rare and extremely difficult to catch. Once captured, they become affectionate pets and they command a good price for that reason. They have soft, downy, light brown, silver-gray or yellow hair, black faces and large, round, expressive eyes.

The work of trapping and snaring went along steadily during the ten days I spent with Omar. By; the time the orang-outangs were ready to travel, we had three gibbons, four baby orang-outangs, one proboscis-monkey, ten black monkeys, eighteen long-tailed monkeys, twenty-two pig-tailed monkeys, three pythons, which averaged eight feet in length, two sambur deer, one sun-bear, three wildcats, four civet-cats, four porcupines, one ant-eater and two armadillos.

We slipped the bars over the open ends of the cages in which the big fellows were to travel, and lashed them securely with rattan ropes. Since the boats at the kampong were too small, I had two large rafts made of bamboo and I placed all the cages on them.

When everything was ready, we boarded the boats and rafts and started down the river. The people lined the banks, shouting and wishing us a safe journey; others followed us in boats. At each village, the natives swarmed out to see the animals and wish us luck. I can still hear them calling: "_Tûan, bîla bâlik? Salâm-at jalân!_ (Sir, when will you come back? Safe journey!)"

We stopped at Mahommed Munshee's village, and then at Sintang. I found that Dr. Van Erman had gone down to Pontianak. Another swarm of natives met us when we arrived there, and I had to station my men around the rafts to keep them from coming aboard.

Leaving Ali in charge of the animals, I went ashore and found that a steamer was sailing for Singapore the next morning. I made arrangements for shipping, and then went to the Resident's house to pay my respects. Dr. Van Erman was there and, after luncheon, I took the Resident and the doctor out to see my catch. The Resident was profuse in his congratulations and he confirmed my belief that the orang-outangs were the largest ever captured in Borneo.

Omar and Munshee assisted in the work of loading the crates on the steamer, because they felt that their obligation to me did not end until we had the animals clear of Borneo. I felt, of course, that I was under obligation to them for all the fine work they and their people had done for me, and I wanted them to accept some money for their services. They refused at first but finally they gave in. From their point of view, they had made sufficient profit, merely in prestige, both with their own people and with the Resident. I made them my agents in their districts and took them with me to the offices of the steamship company while I arranged to have any animals they brought to Pontianak shipped to me at Singapore. When we sailed the next day, they were in their boats alongside, waving and yelling.

There was great excitement in Singapore when the story of the orang-outangs got about. Hordes of people came to see them unloaded. I called upon the police to keep the crowd back, for I was afraid the excitement might be too much for the beasts.

At my animal house, I put them in a quiet spot and left Ali in charge with strict orders against letting too many people come to see them. Then I went to the cable office and sent to the Antwerp Zoölogical Gardens news of the capture.

There was no question in my mind as to what the answer to my cablegram would be, and, before it arrived, I made all the arrangements for shipping. Antwerp offered $10,000 each for the animals delivered. I knew that I could get offers of $25,000 or more in the United States, but that the orangs would not be able to stand the voyage. I sent another message to Antwerp, saying that I was sailing and requesting that arrangements be made for shipping by rail from Marseilles.

A few days later, the cages were swung aboard and we started eastward. Ali accompanied me to care for the animals.

From the moment the steamer headed out to sea, the orang-outangs began to fail. They became deathly seasick, especially the female, and refused food. Ali and I were with them constantly, tempting their appetites with choice bits of food and doing everything possible to make them comfortable. The male grew better but the female lost strength rapidly. Finally she slumped down to the floor of the cage, unable to sit up; she paid no attention to us when we reached into the cage and touched her.

One morning she curled up on the floor, buried her face in her arms and died. Through her death I lost a great deal of money, but I could not help feeling relieved. She had been so abjectly miserable and she had seemed so human in her suffering! I have often wondered if the male had any idea that she was dead. He ceased to improve in health and he became morose. Many days of anxiety followed; every minute I expected the message that the poor fellow was dying.

The ship's carpenter built a vat, and we "pickled" the body of the female in salt water. I knew that some natural history museum would be glad to have such a specimen for mounting. We steamed into the harbor at Marseilles with the male still alive, and I thought that there was an even chance of getting him to Antwerp if the people there had followed my instructions and arranged transportation. An agent met me at the dock. Everything was prepared for us, and we lost no time in getting the beast to the train.

When we reached Antwerp, I felt like standing on the platform and whooping. My job was finished.

The men from the Gardens took charge and rushed the orang-outang out to the cage that had been built to receive him. We ran the transportation cage up to the door and cut away the bars. The orang-outang came out slowly, like a tired and sick old man. He was not interested in his new surroundings and he pushed away the food that we put before him. Veterinarians could do nothing for him. Ten days later he died.

Ali and I remained in Antwerp for several weeks. It was Ali's first trip to Europe, and not a very enjoyable one. He was bewildered and puzzled; he could not understand such a country. Only once did he venture out of the hotel without me, and then he did not go out of sight. He slept in my room on the floor--he would have nothing to do with a bed--and he would touch no food that was not vouched for by me.

When we boarded the boat that was to take us back to the Far East, Ali's face brightened. He had had a wonderful experience, but he said: "Oh, tûan, I am happy to go home: I would not live here."

VI

"KILLING A MAN-EATER"

Before describing my experience with a man-eating tiger, I want to tell something of their habits and the usual methods of hunting them.

There are three classes of tiger, the game killer, the cattle killer and the man-eater.

The game killer confines himself to heavy jungle amongst the hills, where he keeps to the feeding-grounds and resorts of game; he is a great killer of deer and wild pigs; he shuns the haunts of man and wanders in the jungle at all hours.

They are lighter and more active than the cattle killer. Doubtless the reason is that they have to travel farther for their food.

The terror inspired throughout a district by a man-eating tiger is extreme and the natives are only safe in numbers. The rapidity and certainty of its movements form the chief element of the terror it causes; it is generally an old tiger or tigress, or one that has been wounded or otherwise hurt, and has been unable to procure its food in its usual way.

Cattle-killing tigers frequent jungle close to villages and seize a victim amongst cattle where they graze, or pick up a stray animal about the villages at night.

The largest tigers are found amongst the habitual cattle killers. When a tiger becomes old and fat he usually settles down in some locality where beef and water are plentiful, and here he lives on amicable terms with the villages, killing a cow or bullock about once in four or five days.

A full grown, large tiger would have no chance in a fair fight with a bull-bison; the latter's brawny throat, with its hide one and a half inches thick, would afford him a difficult hold, even could he attain it, and no wrench could dislocate the bison's powerful neck, while the tiger would be crushed out of all recognition if once caught between the ground and the bison's massive forehead or forelegs.

I have never witnessed a tiger actually seize its prey, but it has been described to me by natives who have seen them many times while tending cattle. The general method is for the tiger to slink up under cover of bushes or long grass ahead of the cattle and to make a rush at the first cow or bullock that comes within five or six yards. The tiger does not "spring" upon his prey in the manner usually represented, but clutching the bullock's forequarters with his paws, one being generally over the shoulder, he seizes the throat in his jaws from underneath and turns it upwards and over, sometimes, springing to the far side in doing so to throw the bullock over and give the wrench which dislocates its neck.

The popular belief that a tiger can kill his prey by a stroke is erroneous. I have never seen anything to support this belief nor is it held by natives. I have seen several cattle severely lacerated which had escaped from tigers, where had a heavy blow accompanied the strokes of the paws, bones must have been broken.

There is no foundation for the belief in tigers sucking the blood of their victims; the jugular vein is seldom if ever injured; it is by the fracturing of the vertibræ, not by blood-letting, that the tiger's prey is deprived of life. In eating, the tiger invariably commences at the hindquarters and the exact spot where the first mouthful will be taken can be told with certainty.

The flesh of one or both thighs, and sometimes the flanks, or about fifty or sixty pounds of meat is eaten the first night.

Tigers seldom lie up far from their kill if the cover be thick and quiet; they eat whenever inclined either by day or night till the carcass is finished; this is usually on the third day; but of course, this depends upon the size of the animal killed. After or during a meal the tiger drinks largely, often walking belly deep into the water.

Tigers' power of enduring hunger and thirst is very great. Once we surrounded with nets a tiger, tigress and a leopard. We shot the leopard the first day, but the enclosed thicket was so dense that we could not get the tigers to show, but on the fifth day we wounded them both. After this, as nothing would make them break cover, I sent for elephants and killed them still full of vigor on the tenth day. The circle in which they were enclosed was about seventy yards in diameter, and the heat of the fires kept up night and day was considerable, yet they existed without a drop of water for ten days, suffering from wounds half the time. A tiger can go much longer than this without serious inconvenience. One of the most powerful elements in the tiger's attack is his voice. If the attack be commenced very near, the startling, coughing roar is almost paralyzing to the coolest, but if the tiger has to come on from any distance, he rarely does more than grunt, and the hunter's attention is concentrated on the beast itself, so the demonstration passes unnoticed.

The power of the tiger's voice at close quarters may be understood by anyone who has had an opportunity of seeing a newly caged tiger; it is almost impossible to watch the charge against the bars without flinching, if standing within a yard or so of them, but if seen at twenty yards distance it is nothing.

The tigress does not breed oftener than once in two years. They do not breed at any fixed season. Cubs have been taken in March, May and October.

A tigress feeds her cubs when very young with half-digested flesh which she disgorges on her return from hunting or kill. Carrying meat to any distance would be an unnatural proceeding, and the half-digested flesh is probably better adapted to the requirements of young cubs.

When only six weeks old the cubs move from place to place with their mother, but are left at home while she hunts, though she leads them to feast if near when she kills.

Watching for the return from a kill, or at a pool where they are known to drink, is a method of hunting chiefly practiced by natives. Poison pitfalls and traps are generally brought into play when dealing with a man-eater. There is perhaps no method of shooting tigers so seldom successful as watching for their return to feed on animals they have killed. For my part, I confess to a great liking for the silent and solitary watch, which kind of shooting requires the utmost vigilance and patience.

In a shady, green-screened platform in some fine tree, watching at the cool of evening, when jungle sounds alone break the stillness and birds and animals seldom seen at other times steal forth and can be watched at leisure, an intense excitement is kept alive by the possibility of the tiger's appearance at any moment. Those without experience at this game do well to pause, but one who knows the beast he has to deal with may kill many dangerous animals on foot without accident or even serious adventure. Almost every accident that occurs is directly traceable to ignorance or carelessness; the hunter is a tyro or over-venturesome, or due precautions are not observed when following a wounded beast on foot and moving about where he does not think the animal can possibly be, he is seized.

Tiger shooting on foot can never, of course, be safe sport; risks must be run, but if properly conducted, dangerous game shooting on foot is not the mad amusement usually supposed.

It makes all the difference in the world whether the animal to be attacked is wounded or not, and whether any tiger should be attacked on foot or left alone depends greatly on the nature of the jungle in which he is found.

In the grass plains and thick undergrowth in parts of the Malay Peninsula I have seen tigers that could only be shot at from the elevation of an elephant's back. None but the utterly ignorant would think of following a wounded tiger in the long grass or close cover where it has every advantage, and the hunter may be seized before he has time to use his rifle. In such cover the tiger rarely makes any demonstration, seeking only to avoid observation, but when almost stumbled upon he attacks like lightning.

Under no temptation should a hunter's last shot be fired at a retreating beast.

The really best time for tiger hunting in the Malay Peninsula is in the height of the hot season, July and August, when the water supply is at its lowest ebb. The tigers being very impatient of thirst, seek the lowest valley where much of the game he preys upon has gathered and where the village cattle are regularly watered.

It is quite useless to devote much time in hunting the hill or game killing tiger that preys upon game alone; they are so scattered over a large tract of jungle and so active and wary that it is only by accident that they are ever brought to bay.

The average size of a full-grown tiger is from eight and a half to nine feet from nose to tip of tail and weight from two hundred and seventy-five to three hundred and twenty-five pounds.

One day an old friend, Tungku S'leman, a petty rajah from Kelantan, then under the Siamese Protectorate but now under the British, called on me and invited me to go back with him to his district to trap or kill tigers, and he assured me I would be able to get some fine tiger cubs. I was in fact very anxious to secure a few good specimens of young tigers, but as his district was far inland, near the boundary line of a small state called "Rawang," I did not think it worth my while to go, for it would involve a lot of time, and knowing the Malays and their ways so well, it might mean that I would have to beat about the country on a wild goose chase. A Malay will always exaggerate, no matter on what subject, and, as stated elsewhere in my articles, they finally believe what they are telling. They will never do today what can be put off until tomorrow--"Nou-tee Bess-so" (wait tomorrow) is one of the principal words in their vocabulary.

As the Tung-ku's district was difficult to reach, the Kelantan river branching miles from the nearest point, and elephants being the only means of travel, I told him that if I decided to go back with him he would have to furnish the elephants and all the men I might need. I also pointed out to him the difficulty in transporting animals and cages to the coast, and that the cost in time to me would probably be greater than the trip and animals were worth. It was my policy not to show any interest.

I could see that the Tungku was anxious to have me return with him to his district, as it was tiger infested, and his people were leaving on that account. He agreed to do everything in his power as to men, elephants and transportation to the coast. I told him I was very busy but that I would think it over, and to come back in a few days when I would give him a definite answer.

As nearly all my animals had been shipped from my house in Orchard Road, I decided to take the trip with Tungku S'leman and go in for not only tigers but whatever it was possible to get. I was keen on securing a good specimen of rhinoceros, and tapir, so made my preparations for a lengthy stay in his district, and for getting whatever animals I could, large or small. When on the following day the Tungku came to see me and I told him I would go back with him, he seemed a happy man. I advised him to send his chief follower on ahead so that he could have the elephants meet us at the end of our trip down the Kelantan river, to take us inland, as that would save a lot of time and unnecessary waiting for them to come down for us. He assured me the elephants were there as they would remain until he returned. So the following week we started up the coast in a small vessel, and arriving at Koto Bharn, we went up by boat to the capital, Kelantan, and the next day after paying my respects to the Sultan, we started up the Kelantan river to where the river turned further south. Here at a kampong we found the four elephants of Tungku S'leman. We stopped four days at this kampong, getting everything packed that would not be used or wanted until we reached the Tungku's village, which meant a four days' journey through jungle.

Taking six men, including the headman, I started on a tour of inspection of that district for the best location to set up our traps, dig pits, and spread nets for smaller game, as the headman informed me that deer, wild pigs and tapir were numerous, but very shy. On our return to the kampong, I had a trap made and set up for the catching of tigers and leopards, and explained how the nets were to be made of rattan, both large and small mesh, and how to set them amongst the trees. I was particular to impress upon the headman that he was to remove all signs of the jungle being disturbed and if possible have a goat tied to the windward while setting up the large trap.

I did the same at the two other kampongs before we reached Tungku S'lamen's village, where I was received with interest by the natives, as I was one of the very few white people they had ever seen, and as the runners had hurried on ahead as we were getting close to his village, they were all out to see Man Gagah (Sir Elephant). After resting for a few days and hearing whatever news there was regarding the man-eater that was terrorizing the district, I thought it best to try and round him up by elephants.

As they are cowardly, as well as cunning, they are most difficult to stalk, and as their movements are so uncertain it is very difficult to locate them, it was essential that the men who were to work with me could be depended upon at the right moment. I assured them that in numbers they were safe from the tiger, and that by showing a bold front the tiger would be more afraid of them than they of it. The last time it had been reported had been about ten days before, and nothing could be done for the time being, so I started the men making traps, snares and nets. These I intended to set up within a certain area, while with others I started out on a tour of inspection with the elephants to visit all the water holes and drinking pools in the surrounding district. There I intended to have pits dug and to mark the best places for setting the nets; the traps I intended to set up later, depending more on the nets, as I had already had traps set up in the kampongs on our way to the Tungku's village. I spent a whole week in working out different areas for snaring by nets.

I had nets made of twisted rattan in sizes of twenty by fifteen feet with meshes six inches, other nets ten by eight and five by five feet with meshes according to what the net was best adapted for.

The older men who could not follow the hunt, I had put to work making transporting or rough string cages and crates, for monkeys as well as tigers.

My plan was to work each section or area and catch by either net or pit whatever we could. Everything was in readiness to start at daybreak the following morning, when a native came running into the kampong, crying as he ran, "Re-mow, Sa-tan" (Devil Tiger). The man was about to collapse with fright and exhaustion from running. I calmed him so he could tell his story, which was that while he, his wife and daughter were gathering some faggots not one hundred yards from his hut, the tiger suddenly sprang from the thicket and striking his daughter down, carried her off in the jungle. After leaving his wife in the hut, he ran to the Tungku's kampong to inform the Tungku what had happened.

As it was too late in the afternoon to do anything I told Tungku S'lamen to send out the alarm for all the available men; the alarm is sounded by the striking of a hollow log, which can be heard for miles in the stillness of the jungle, and all natives hearing the booming sound know its meaning. I advised Tungku to send five or six men back with the messenger and for them to stay with him until we came the next morning. The hunt was on, and all preparations were made at once for our early start, as the men began to flock in from the outlying kampong. They were to stay at the Tungku's kampong that night to be ready to start at daybreak after eating their breakfast. There was intense excitement throughout the whole night, very little sleep for anyone, for, as I told the men, they would not return until we had killed the tiger. A few of the natives, especially the headmen, had flintlock, muzzle-loading rifles. To these I handed out extra powder and slugs; they were really good marksmen and men who could be depended on at the right moment.

We started at daybreak. The men having eaten, everyone was anxious and eager to be off, now that the hunt was to be conducted not alone by a white man, but in numbers. There were fifty natives; the Tungku and two of his headmen with their flintlock rifles rode on the first elephant, while Ali and myself followed behind on the second, the third with stores bringing up the rear, for I had no idea when we would get back. Although the Tungku assured me the elephants were well broken, I did not place any reliance on them. Riding on an elephant and jogging along peacefully is one thing, and tiger hunting on the back of one is quite another. As I have mentioned elsewhere, they are excessively timid both in their wild and domestic state, and to become a well-trained, tiger-hunting elephant, one so broken must have plenty of courage and experience. It is simply madness to attempt to use an elephant that has never been broken and tried out, as they will always bolt. Then again, if one never had a gun fired from its back, the effect is rather startling to his riders. It is a terrible thing to be bolted with while on an elephant's back in the jungle. I intended to take no chances while mounted as far as shooting was concerned, depending on cornering the tiger, if possible, and if the ground were favorable, start on foot.

Besides my 50-110 express, I had a Holland double-barrel 450 and a Fox No. 12 smooth bore shotgun. Ali had his spears, but was to use either the express or double-barrel Holland if we came up with the tiger. The other men carrying spears, parangs and tom-toms made up the party. Arriving at the place where the girl had been seized, two men who were experienced trackers took up the trail, which was quite fresh and plain and could be easily followed. Presently we came upon the remains of the poor victim. Very little was left--only the head and upper part of her body. We stopped only long enough to bury the remains. The tracks were not over an hour old, and as the jungle was sparse, it would give no cover to the tiger. After crossing a small stream, his track led toward a rocky hill less than two miles distant, coming suddenly into a clearing with tall grass.

I shouted to the men to spread out, keep quiet, and move slowly within a few feet of each other. As the grass was still heavy with dew, we could see where the tiger had passed through to the right into the thicker jungle. We had perhaps traveled about one hour, the tracks becoming difficult to follow on account of heavy undergrowth, when we were startled by the screaming and chattering of monkeys. We knew then the tiger was not far ahead, and at the same time the elephant that the Tungku was on, spreading his ears and raising his trunk, uttered a shrill, brassy trumpet, expressing his fear. I called to the Tungku to take the elephant back, as he would be worse than useless. He was quickly turned about and driven behind, the Tungku coming up with me, the two headmen joining the men on foot. The elephant I was on showed no sign of uneasiness; the mahout or driver spoke sharply to him, calling back to me that he could handle him as that was not the first time he had been used in smelling tiger. Still I was loath to risk firing a gun from his back.

We followed the trail of the chattering monkeys, when suddenly they ceased, as we came to a very heavy patch with thick undergrowth, excellent cover for the tiger, into which he had evidently gone. The patch itself was not more than seventy yards in diameter. I called to the men to stretch but and surround the place, and make as much noise as possible, keeping close together.

As soon as the patch was surrounded, I told the Tungku to send the two elephants, the one he had been on and the other one carrying stores, back to his kampong for more men, and the men as they came on were to cut and load up the elephants with all the dry wood they could; also each man was to carry some wood and as many of the long nets as had been made. These I intended to spread out at the back and as much around the sides as possible, making doubly sure he should not escape. I told the Tungku we would not leave the spot until the tiger had been killed. I had a platform built with "kaj-ongs" forming the roof. This was very soon finished, and late in the afternoon the elephants returned with more foodstuffs, wood and forty men. Each man had gathered a good bundle of dried wood, which wood I had passed around, as I intended to form a circle of fire and keep the tiger within the circle. I then had the fires started and they were kept up the whole night, but in the morning the fires that were in front of the platform were allowed to die out, and after the men had taken turns eating, I ordered them to close in about twenty-five feet, throwing the fire before them. In this way I kept narrowing the circle every few hours while we on the platform kept a keen lookout.

On the second day one of the headmen on the left side of the circle fired a shot at what he said was the tiger. Instantly there was a great commotion and the men started shouting and making a great noise. We were keenly on the alert, as the platform faced the only spot of the circle that was open and free from fire, and hoped the tiger would break cover. Suddenly Ali, touching me, quietly said, as he raised his gun to his shoulder, "Tuem-block-on-po-ko" (behind the tree). Telling him to cover the left side, I covered the right side of the tree the tiger was crouching behind, and told Ali to shoot as close to the tree as he could without hitting it. He fired, and almost instantly I let go at a streak of yellow and black; it disappeared at once. The yelling by this time was enough to drown the grunt or roar of the tiger; there was no way at the time to know if we had succeeded in hitting it, so completing the fire circle in front of the platform, we lay down to sleep as best we could. What little wind there was, was in our direction, and kept us pretty free from being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

On the morning of the fourth day the tiger had not broken cover and as the circle had now narrowed to about fifty yards, the heat was intense, for the fires were kept going day and night. Still the tiger would not break cover. I was determined to go into the circle then with the elephant, as the nets were well put up at the back, outside of the fire, and that allowed more men to strengthen the sides. I was taking no chances of escape. I had two headmen get up on the elephant I had come on, and told the driver to back a short distance, as I wanted the headmen to shoot off their guns from the elephant's back, in order to watch the effect on the elephant. I told them to each fire his gun off on opposite sides but not at the same instant. Well, he never moved, and when those muzzle-loading flintlocks go off they certainly kick and make a startling noise. After that test I was satisfied to take the chance and told the Tungku that Ali and myself were going in after the tiger, and that he and his two headmen must keep a sharp lookout from the platform and have their guns trained on the opening. The mahout was a plucky fellow and felt very proud, assuring me he could handle his elephant.

I passed the word for all the men to be on the lookout and allow the fire on the right side to die out, to keep together, and those of the headmen who had guns should shoot if the tiger tried to break through. As soon as the fires had died down, I told the driver to go ahead and keep to the right side. When on an elephant in fair ground, the object should be to get the tiger to charge instead of letting him sneak away, for the hunt is then ended in a short and exciting encounter, but if once let away it may be hours before he is found again, if he ever is at all.

Coming opposite the tree where we had shot at the tiger, and under a patch of heavy undergrowth, against a large boulder, we both saw it. Seeing the elephant it gave a coughing roar, and as it did I let go, catching it fair in the eye. Ali had his spear poised ready to throw, but the man-eater slumped down and to make sure I put another explosive bullet in its side as it lay. I called to the Tungku we had got it. I will not try, for I could not adequately describe the scene which followed when the men knew their foe had been killed; shouting, yelling, dancing, they went wild. Runners started off at once racing back to the kampong to tell the news and have the women make ready a feast. The return to the kampong was like a royal procession. The Tungku and I on the elephant led the way, the men carrying the dead tiger, singing and laughing, calling the dead animal all manner of names. There was great feasting that night; it was made hideous with the singing and beating of tom-toms, and, although dead tired from lack of rest, sleep was impossible. In the morning the Tungku did a most astonishing thing; nothing of the kind had ever been known to the oldest subject; he set free five of his debt slaves.

On examination I found that the first time we fired at her, while behind the trees, as she leapt back from the shot Ali had fired, I had caught her in the flank, smashing the hind leg, and with all her suffering, thirst and heat, she never betrayed her cover or uttered a sound.

She measured eight and three-quarters feet from tip of nose to tip of tail and weighed about two hundred and ninety pounds. She was in milk, but though we searched, we never found her cubs.

VII

UP A TREE IN THE JUNGLE