4 uda prang—jungle hunter -...

4 Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter

ary. So it followed naturally in due result of his several years service on thecourse that Uda “professed Christianity,” coasting steamers. He spoke half Eng-accepting the faith in exchange for an lish in deliberate fashion, and some Dutch,extra portion of rice and currie, a brass- when he was feeling particularly joyousbacked comb and two undershirts of —though he confessed to me one daydoubtful ancestry, which the pious, and on the Indragiri River, that he was notnow much elated first-mate gave him. The so proud of his Dutch. His English wasarticles of the new faith provided, that in not always to be relied on—but at least itaddition to feeling the strong right arm of was understandable and proved a greatthe first-mate, Uda’s share of rice and cur- boon to me, who had been confined to signrie was to be greatly reduced every time he language for weeks. If Uda was not abroke the eighth and ninth Command- fluent talker, he was at all events an eco-merits. As currie and rice are meat and nomical one, for a single story usuallydrink to the Malayan, it came about that lasted the night; not that the tale was in-Uda grew gradually out of the habit of tricate—but Uda enjoyed the telling. Helying and into the habit of truthfulness; seemed to have quite an opinion of him-and by the time he had reached manhood, self as a hunter, and later, whenever hethe habit was become fixed. and I together encountered natives, he

I fell across Uda through the good was good enough to bracket us with muchoffices of Jin Abu, on returning from our flourishing of hands and an ornate pre-successful elephant hunt. With a naked amble in the soft, tuneful Malay. He in-kiddie prattling around, he was clearing formed me that he had hunted at variousup a piece of rotan, and I camped nearby times in Java and Borneo, and that if Ifor a few days, while Jin Abu told him of would wait until he had harvested his lit-our hunting experience after elephant, and tle crop he would go with me on my pro-of my disappointment in not having posed trip for rhino.found rhinoceros as well as elephant.Uda was quite a linguist, evidently the Uda was for ascending some of the

The little white rimless cap, sign of the pilgrimage to Mecca, is seen everywhere.

rivers which bear tothe south and west-ward from the Siak;but I had seen all ofthat part of Sumatra Icared to, and was ratherset on making my wayto the sections dividedby the Kampar and theIndragiri rivers, whichare south of the Siak,and have their sourcewell over toward thewestern coast of theIsland, whence theymake their way, notquite so deviously asthe Siak, east into theChina Sea. This wasa section outside ofUda’s ken, and, like allthe Far Eastern coastand river living people,he saw nothing but fail-ure in an attempt topenetrate a countrywhich was without

Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter 5

leave of him a littleway below where wehad first found Uda—I with genuine re-gret—for Jin had beenfaithful and compan-ionable, despite our in-tercourse being re-stricted to sign talk,and I had grown toesteem and to like him,as I did no other na-tive in the Far East.

We made ratherrough weather of itcoasting from themouth of the Siak tothe Kampar in theprau engaged for thetrip. The honest truthis, that there were timeswhen I wondered ifwe should get any-where beyond theChina Sea; for, thoughthe boat proved sur-

The leopard is bolder in attack than the tiger.

beaten path. I had no definite informa- prisingly seaworthy, the rag we had for ation about the district, or found native or sail, with its foot standing six feet aboveDutchman who had visited it; but there the bottom of the boat, was blown intoseemed to be a tradition that so far as rhi- ribbons; and the long, narrow blade ofnoceros were concerned, it was a land of the Malay paddle is not a useful imple-plenty. So I determined to go despite the ment on the open sea. But it was allfact that Uda thought little of it and we had; and so when the sail went by theprophesied failure. board, as it soon did after we got under

This was all talked out, over and over,laboriously between Uda and me,

way, the crew of three and Uda and I layand our backs to the work of paddling for most

translated by him to Jin Abu, who still lin-gered with us, and took great interest in

of the two nights and a day of the over longtime it took us to reach the mouth of the

the discussion. It occupied several nights river.to talk it out, for in the day time we pad-

The prau is a distinctly Malayan

dled, Uda sticking to his single dug-out,craft, with high, sharp bow, and stern so

which he was taking down river to cache;finely drawn as to leave barely more thansitting room for the helmsmen, in a total

and when we stopped paddling, the mos- boat length of twenty feet. It has by farquitoes demanded a good share of our the best lines of Malayan boats, and is astime and attention. Finally the plan set- graceful and speedy as any of the verytled upon was, that we should make our graceful and speedy boats in Far Easternway down the river, discharging my pres- waters. It is the craft in which Malayent party at the point where I had en- pirates, of a time not so long gone, weregaged them, to the mouth of the Siak, accustomed to steal out, from the manywhere Uda was well acquainted, and indentations of their shore line, upon thewhere we should hire boats and outfit for unsuspecting and sluggish-moving coaster;the trip down the coast to the Kampar it was the troop ship of the old days whenRiver, which we were first to try. Jin feuds carried a Malay chief and his fight-Abu wanted very much to go with us, but ing crew from one river to another. It issaid he could not remain as long away fast under its square sail, and will comefrom his rotan and fishing; so we took safely through pretty roughish going.


A few of these boats are used at Singa-pore as passenger carriers from wharf tosteamer, and here they are pulled (orrather pushed) by oars and manned byTamils (natives of Madras, India); but onthe rivers of Malay and of Sumatra the prau,when not under sail, is invariably paddled.

The crew of our prau knew slightlymore about the Kampar River than didUda and I. They were to land us at alittle settlement near its mouth, beyondwhich they knew nothing; and here wewere to organize our party for the rhinohunt in the up-river country.

think, though I find myself uncertainabout names on these rivers, and havinglost my note book (along with sometrophies and many films), I am unable toreinforce my memory.

The Dutch, in fact, have not mademuch of their opportunities along theSumatra coast and practically nothing inthe interior; quite a different story fromJava, which is a veritable and flourishinggarden. Apparently they are satisfied withscattered posts near the coast, on a fewof the main rivers, where paternal interestchiefly manifests itself to the natives in

Native fish traps along the river banks.

The limited knowledge of natives con-cerning the country immediately surround-ing them I have always noted on myvarious ventures into wilderness lands, ofthe Far North as well as of the Far East.Beyond the paths they have made or whichtheir fathers trod, they know nothing;though they do not confess it. Native imag-ination, however, is as active as their knowl-edge is limited, and embarrassment andconfusion await the visiting adventurerwho has not learned by experience how lit-tle dependence may be places on the allegedinformation given under such conditions.

We found no Dutch at this little riversettlement, Polloc Lawan by name, I

taxation upon outgoing rotan (rattan)and incoming sarong (costume) stuffs. Asa result there has been but slight develop-ment of Sumatra. The natives gather alittle rotan and grow a little of the rootfrom which tapioca is made. These con-stitute their total of industries. Beyondthis, they fish, mostly by means of largebamboo traps set along the river banks;but there is no fishing for export, andoften not enough to supply the localwants—though this is more from lack offishing than lack of fish. Not every na-tive has the right or the affluence to ownsuch a trap, therefore in some districtschosen individuals at intervals along the

Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter 7

river are given the right to set up traps— There was no sultan at the settlementa permission that entails obligation to sell on the Rampar to use up my time in vanity-of the fish caught to the natives of that satisfying audiences, or delay my prepara-particular locality. Except for the tapi- tion by official red tape; but I did find aoca-producing root, which tastes some- picturesque, fine-looking native old gentle-what like sweet potato, though not nearly man, who, though somewhat pompous,so sweet, there is no cultivation of soil by and by way of having an exalted idea ofthe native; and there is no meat eating. his importance on the river, was the es-Rice and fish are the staple supplies; and sence of good humor, and exceedinglythere is fruit growing wild for whoever kind to me. His appearance, I must con-will come and take it. The few Chinese fess, did not harmonize with his dignifiedtraders do rather handsomely, for they demeanor. He was not more than com-pay the native about half what he could fortably rounded, yet had a most pro-get if he opened direct trade with the out- nounced bay-window, of which he ap-

The prau in which we made our passage.

side world. Some day a future may open peared to take great stock; for, wheneverfor industrial Sumatra, but it will not be he stood to receive me, he leaned back atby any effort of the Malays, or because of such an angle as to leave little visible savethe present policy of the Dutch. And this ornament thrust on high, so that, ap-when development does come to this East proaching head on, you beheld bare legsIndia island, it will be through the work and feet apparently growing directly out ofof plodding John Chinaman, who, though the stomach, over the far horizon of whichdamned at every hand, yet—patient, stolid, peeped the little round crown of the rimlessdependable,—remains the industrial back- hat he wore. It was an irresistible combina-bone of Siam and of the Malay Archipe- tion of intended dignity of mien and ac-lago. England could have made no head- tual comicality of appearance; so irresist-way in the Malay Peninsula without him, ible, in fact, that I begged Uda to askand the United States will find him equally him to remain seated when he receivedas essential to the development of the me, because I felt abashed in the pres-Philippines—Congress to the contrary ence of a standing potentate so distin-notwithstanding. guished. Thereafter my portly host


obligingly, though, I felt sure, regretfully,sat down, thus somewhat concealing theprideful feature of his anatomy, which hadcome so near to disturbing the ententecordiale between us. It must take quitea lot of rice and fish and a number of yearsto develop a bay-window in Sumatra;that is why, I suppose, my good-naturednative friend had such frank pleasure inthe completed product.

The old gentleman had also quite aretinue of kris and spear and betel-nutbearers; but, next to the bay-window, thejoy of the old gentleman’s heart was hisson, who had made a trip to Singaporeseveral years before my arrival, and hadever since shone preëminently in the coun-try thereabouts on the glory of that visit.He was about twenty or a few years older,with excellent features, and a white jacketbearing silver buttons which he hadingeniously manufactured from pieces ofcoin acquired on that memorable trip.But what he valued most, and invariablywore on special occasions, was a pair of pat-ent leather shoes from which he had cut allthe leather save just the toe, thus makinga pair of slipper-like shoes whose rat-tat-tatof heel, as he slapped along, soundedstrangely aggressive among the bare-footed, noiseless steps of all the others.The son proved as kind to me as the father.

In the three days I stayed at the settle-ment outfitting, I found little to differ-entiate those from other natives of theMalayan islands. They look more orless alike; affect about the same kind ofcostume, sarongs chiefly, though trousersof local cut and jackets are also wornlargely, except on the Peninsula, wherethey are used only by Government ser-vants, or by hunting natives in the jungle,to facilitate progress and protect theirbodies from the thorns. So far as Su-matra is concerned, individual tastes arerevealed, in the headgear, which may besimply the rimless cap, a turban coveringthe head completely, or binding the headto leave the top exposed, or fashioned intoprojecting horns at front or side of head;or they may have no head covering what-ever. When they have been to Mecca,the rimless cap is white, and ever afterinvariably worn; for the pilgrim to that holyshrine is the envy of all beholders lesstraveled, and he misses no opportunityto advertise his fortune, as the little whitecaps are very conspicuous. Uda Prangowned such a cap; but, professing Chris-tianity, I never saw him wear it exceptdeep in the jungle—and there it neverleft his head, day or night. Those whohave not been to Mecca wear caps ofa somewhat similar shape, but of dark

Uda stuck to his dug-out.

My friend the portly chief, his son and servants.

colored stuffs; but the strongest desire toearn the right to wear the white cap rulesin every Malay, and many literally sellthemselves into bondage that they mayget the money to make this pilgrimage;willing to spend remaining years of theirlives paying back the cost. Should thepilgrim die en route, he is saved, accordingto the belief; for the faithful one wholoaned the money—I find no provision,material or spiritual.

The little white cap always comes high.All the natives with whom I came in con-

tact, I found most earnest in their devotionsand punctilious in living up to the require-ments of their religion. They drink noliquor, eat no meat of which they have notcut the throat, and abhor bacon and dogs.They will not carry a basket in which thereis bacon, nor permit a dog to touch them.This rids the country of the mongrel curs,the pariahs, with which Siam is overrun,because Buddha forbids the killing of anyanimal. I found it a distinctly pleasantchange.

Where they live on the river banks, intheir houses built on stilts, the natives areclean; the houses are all of the same pat-tern, as are the pots for boiling rice, andthe bamboo baskets, but here and therea crude earthenware bowl shows lines

that suggest India. In the settlementspractically all Malays carry the kris; intown it becomes a timbuk lada (dagger),and in the jungle they add the parang,which in general is a knife with a shorthandle and an eighteen-inch blade, fash-ioned at the point and decorated accordingto the whim of the maker.

I had not nearly the difficulty organizinga party here as elsewhere in Sumatra, andnone whatever of securing a sampan anda four-paddle dug-out. Two Chinamenmanned the sampan and carried the bulkof provision, which consisted chiefly ofrice, dried fish and coffee, while three na-tives and Uda comprised the crew of thecanoe. Two of my natives brought alongsome kind of rifle, not known to me, whichthey had picked up in trade from acoaster; Uda had an old Martini, and myarmory included a so half magazine anda double 12-bore. No one at the settle-ment could give us specific informationconcerning the up-country rhinoceros.We could find no one who had huntedthe country, or seen tracks, or talked withany man that had. It seemed to be en-tirely a matter of tradition that rhinoceroslived in that country, yet all the natives,even my well meaning old friend, gliblyassured us that up the river three or four

1 0 Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter

days we should find plenty of rhino. Na-tives have a casual way of misinformingthe adventurer, and the Europeans Ifound in the Far East appear to have ac-quired a somewhat similar habit. It’s oneof those things the hunter should acceptalong with fever and leeches, as of thehandicaps indigenous to the country.

In a week’s trip up the Kampar wepassed several little settlements, usuallyhuddled at the mouth of a small river, ofwhich there were a great many; and hereand there we saw paths extending backinto the jungle to other little settlementsfrom three to five miles inland, and nowand again came upon a partial clearingwhere had been planted a small patch ofpadi (rice). Other than these threads oftrails hacked out of the jungle, nowhereare there roads leading inland, for thecountry is swamplike for the greater part,and mostly the people catch fish, which,with the fruit, serves as their main suste-nance. Lining the rivers, whether main orbranch, whether they narrow or broaden,are great stiff spears, standing out of thewater from six to seven feet, with palm-like leaves, which maintain a width oftwo inches except at the end, where theybecome a sharp, strong point. Otherpalms along the banks bear a poisonousfruit as large as a small watermelon,and are shunned alike by men and birds.

As we paddled along, every now andagain one of my men broke out in a mostdoleful, dirgelike wail, which rather dis-turbed my peace until Uda assured mehe was singing his prayers, as is the habitwith some. Later we passed canoes withseveral paddlers singing prayers together;and once, at one of the settlements, twomen sang prayers out of a book and sixothers joined them, to an accompanimentof heavy drums. We happened to campat this place and the devotions kept upuntil late into the night.

It was our scheme to go up the Kamparfor some distance, eventually following toits source one of the branch streams, andfrom there to start inland. It was possiblequite frequently to land and hunt. Oftenwe heard of elephants, sometimes we sawtheir tracks; and, as we got farther upriver we heard also of rhinoceros. Fre-quently we saw deer, which were fairlyplentiful in the higher reaches of country,but I never shot, because I did not require

the meat, and I could not spare spacefor heads in my boats. At practicallyevery settlement, especially where deerabounded, we heard of tiger and leopard.But this is the brief of a long trip; as awhole, it did not seem to me much of agame country. Certainly I should nevermake another trip to that island only forhunting.

The Kampar and the Indragiri riversare typical of Sumatra—low, sometimesindistinguishable banks, covered withheavy jungle, dense palm-spear growthreaching ten to fifteen feet out towards themiddle of the stream. As we progressedtoward headwaters and on to the smallerrivers, the growth continued as dense,though not extending so far from thebanks. Here, as on the Siak and its trib-utaries, we heard the mournful scale ofthe Wa Wa monkey, the loud single note ofthe poet bird, and the hoarse croaking ofthe herons in the evening. There was notwilight. The sun set at six, and half anhour later it was dark. The water was ofa deep garnet in color, sometimes in thelarger river so deep as to be almost black,and a mirror that reflected the palms andour paddles as we moved over its surface.Occasionally as we paddled along, usuallyat about three miles an hour, we met a lownative canoe, with paddlers crouching bowand stern, using the narrow, long-pointedblade of the Malay paddle with silent, pow-erful stroke; but these were few and farbetween. There was little travel on theriver, and even at the settlements weresometimes not more than three or four,never to exceed a dozen men. Thus work-ing our way toward the interior, natives be-came scarcer, and after a couple of weeksthere were none.

Meantime I had found Uda a sourceunfailing of entertainment and interest. Iwish I could recount the marvelous taleshe unwound for my benefit. I rather en-couraged him, for he was picturesque, andit suited my purpose to size him up beforewe got upon the more serious business ofhunting in the jungle. Perhaps the mostfrequently recurring theme of Uda’s lifestory was his intrepid conduct in the faceof wounded and fiercely charging wildbeasts, and his contempt for the natives,whom he characterized as goats. Uda’snerve was to be tested sooner than he im-agined, and in rather startling manner.

Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter 1 1

We had branched into two or three dif-ferent rivers, always bearing to the south

pressed Uda with my desire to make fast

by west, and finally got on one about fif-headway, and promised good presents to

teen feet in width, somewhat more crookedthe men if they worked diligently; so there

than the rule, but rather clearer of thewas little conversation during the paddling

usual spearlike palm growth extendinghours, which were from daylight to sunset,

from the banks. I had been on the out-except on the more or less frequent occa-

look for tapir since we left the last settle-sions when we had to stop and clear the

ment, for, though no native had spokenstream of fallen trees, or cut a way

of them, I felt convinced they must bethrough the entangling roots of a greatstump that barred our passage. At such

in such country. All along, it had been times I was much taken with the skill ofmy habit to take position in the bow of the Malays in handling the parang, withthe canoe with rifle, whenever we came the speed and accuracy and force of theirto a section which, in my eyes, appeared strokes.

A Typical View of the River.

particularly gamy, or upon a stretch of Thus one afternoon late, we were pad-tortuous river. Some days we would go dling up stream, with me in the bow, riflealong thus for hours, with me sitting in the in hand, as usual, when, as we rounded abow, rifle across my knees, and back of me bend in the river, I sighted a tapir aboutthe men bending to their silent paddling, fifty yards ahead. It was just disappear-singing their prayers the while. It struck ing into the palms at the river bank as Ime as curious, not to say amusing, that took a snap shot at its hind quarter—allwhenever I took up my place in the bow that was to be seen when I got my rifle towith rifle, the men broke out in prayer shoulder. On the report, the canoesinging. Early in the experience I stopped stopped so suddenly that I, sitting loosely,them singing aloud, but I could never still went over backwards on top one of thethem entirely. And so we moved swiftly natives, who shunted against another, andand quietly along, the paddles keeping a sudden panic resulted which came verysilent rhythm with the persistent prayerful near upsetting the boat. Righting my-humming. Day after day passed thus, self, I was a bit surprised to notice thatwith scarcely a word spoken, for I im- my men, including the intrepid Uda,


were obviously in a greatly perturbedstate of mind. And I was at a loss toknow why, until I urged Uda to send thecanoe on so I could land and track thetapir, It appears that, having seen noth-ing, the sudden report of my rifle, break-ing in upon their prayer crooning, hadstartled them, and at the same timearoused that dread of the intangible whichI have found to possess all simple peoples,from the arctics to the tropics, to a fear-some degree. They refused to paddle on;in fact, there was a movement to swing thecanoe back, which I stopped perempto-rily; and then I assailed Uda, who muchannoyed me by rather leaning with thenatives than with me, in language withwhich he had no doubt become familiaron board the coasting steamer. Every manof my crew had picked up his parang, andit did look for a few moments a bit morelike a war than a paddling party; mean-time the canoe drifted back, held headon, however, by Uda, who kept to hispaddle in the stern. Finally Uda pulledhimself together, and began talking to thecrew, and after a few moments they putdown their knives and took up paddlesagain. It is remarkable how craven-hearted the deep-seated dread of theunknown will make natives of thewilds; and yet again how desperatelybrave they will be where the conditionsare usual and the surroundings familiar.

Wallowing through mud knee deep, Ifound the tapir inland several hundredyards on three legs, and succeeded, afterabout an hour’s stalking, in bringing itdown. It is an ugly, pig-like looking thingof no sport-giving qualities, and I shouldnever shoot another. I only shot this onebecause, being nocturnal in its habits, itis seldom seen, and I wanted to make anear study of its differentiation from theSouth American type. In a few wordsthis may be summed up; the Malay typehas a whitish back, longer snout andflat head crown, as compared with theBrazilian tapir, which is all black, hasalmost no snout, and the head crown ele-vated. I took the fore feet of my tapir, butsubsequently lost them, with other morevaluable trophies, when we upset, as wedid several times. I had much difficultyin working my way out to the river pointwhere I had landed, and when I did, thecanoe was not in sight, and in the muck

and mud of the jungle—for I had got intoa very swampy piece of it—it took menearly three hours to wallow around to abend lower on the river, by which time itwas dark, and I could not see. Finally,however, I raised an answer to my shoutsfrom the sampan, which the Chinamen,indifferent to wild beasts of the jungleas to the cares of the world, and with nodread of the mysterious, had brought inclose to the bank and tied to a palm. Thecanoe I finally discovered a little fartherdown stream, the men still apparently un-easy. They were a full mile below whereI had got out, and I might have walked allnight but for the Chinamen.

Before turning in that night, on the sam-pan, where I slept when we did not campashore, I congratulated Uda Prang on thecourage he had shown that afternoon, andtold him of my delight in having a junglehunter of such prowess in my party.

Next morning we took up course again.I must say the river travel had becomevery monotonous—really oppressive. Allthe time there was the same scene—palmsand a dense jungle lining the banks, withtrees here and there showing their tops inthe background. Now and again we sawsome monkeys with long and short tails,and heard the rasping screech of a horn-bill, or the croak of a heron; now andagain a crocodile with baleful eye sunkfrom sight as we neared. At rare in-tervals a lonely bird sent out a few notes.Otherwise there was only the squeak ofthe sampan oars following us, and the menin the canoe now hunting, now softly sing-ing, as they drew their paddles throughthe water. Overhead, just about sunset,passed every afternoon great flocks of fly-ing foxes (fruit bats), which seemed al-ways to be going west. The stream herenarrowed considerably, and for three dayswe had been towing the sampan, becausethere was not width enough to use the oars,when at length one afternoon we came tothe headwaters.

As there was no interior settlement ofwhich we knew in the direction we weregoing, we made a camp inland about tenmiles, where I stationed the Chinamen,one of the Malays, and the provisions,while Uda, two of the natives and I wentafter rhino. My scheme was to use thiscamp as a supply station, making fromit trips of three to four days’ duration,

“With a naked kiddie prattling around him.”

until I had worked over all the countrywithin a radius of such trips, and then toreëstablish it, again and again, until Igot what I sought. I found here themost attractive country I had huntedin Sumatra, though that is not saying agreat deal, for, speaking generally, it wasthe same dense jungle as elsewhere, onlyhere were upland stretches of compara-tive openness and dryness. It was a de-light to come out of the dark, cheerlessjungle into the sunshine, hot as it was,where the birds were calling. There wasthe minah bird, rather effectively markedin black and yellow, which I was told canbe taught to talk if taken when young; andthere was another bird about the size ofa pigeon, with black plumage and forkedtail, which, in fairly plentiful numbers,zig-zagged across the heavens, utteringone or two not unmusical notes.

One of the most attractive birds I saw wasa brilliant kingfisher; and one of those Idid not see is the jungle fowl, of whichI had heard, but which, I understandfrom good authority, is not to be foundin Sumatra. Once in a while I saw a fewgreen doves of the variety so common andplentiful in Siam. There were manybirds, indeed, of varying though not bril-

liant plumage, and monkeys of all sizes,and of all hues of countenance. Of thebarking deer there were also many, andnow and then I saw the tiny mouse deer,with its exquisitely dainty lines, the entireanimal less than eighteen inches in height.Of wild pig tracks there were many. Itwas a great relief from tramping throughthe mud and wet clinging undergrowthof the dismal jungle.

Jungle hunting is so different from thatof the uplands or of the mountains; it isso monotonous, so uneventful. Only at thefinish, when you are immediately beforeyour game, and not always then, is thereany stalking. There is no woodcraft. Yousimply wallow in mud, cutting a waythrough dense undergrowth impenetrableto the eye, sometimes crawling throughmud holes up to your waist. Never isthere opportunity of a view ahead, as tothe lie of the land or the probable courseof the game. You may only plod on, fol-lowing the tracks, hopeful that the nextmud hole may show fresh spoor.

Moving our main camp farther into theinterior several times, thus to give uswider range from our base of supplies, wehad covered quite an area and hunteddiligently every day of eight before we

1 4 Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter

found a section which gave indication ofrhinoceros. Most of those eight days ithad rained, and the (8 x 12) canvas fly Icarried came in very handy to save pro-visions and protect our heads at night fromthe almost incessant rain. Several times Isaw the pugs of leopard, and one day, as,under a generous shade-giving bush, I satwriting in my note book, while the maincamp was being moved, I had the unusualgood fortune lo see the end of a stalk by ablack leopard upon a barking deer. I couldeasily have got a snap shot had my camerabeen at hand instead of in its tin box,journeying toward the new camp site,about ten miles away. While I wrote Iheard several barking deer without look-ing up; in fact they were so common thatI never did pay attention, except wherethere was hope of getting near to studythem; but, as I wrote, a strange and,it seemed, distressful yelp in the barking,caused me to look up in time to see a deerjust bounding out from the jungle edge,with a black leopard not two dozen feetbehind it. In two leaps, it seemed, theleopard had alighted on the deer’s neck,apparently turning a complete somersaultwith the deer immediately on striking,and evidently breaking the neck of itsvictim in the performance. It happenedin the open not fifty feet from me, and Isat for a full ten minutes watching thatleopard; the first one of the cat family Ihad ever seen mauling its prey. Theleopard’s actions were precisely those ofthe cat with a mouse after a kill; it put outa fore paw and arm, pushing it, then pull-ing, and once or twice leaped lightly fromone side to the other. It was some timebefore it satisfied itself of the deer’s death,if that was the object of the pawing; andthen it fastened its fangs in the deer’sthroat, though without tearing the flesh—that is, without ripping it—and remained,apparently sucking the blood, for severalminutes. Thus far its actions had beenrather deliberate, and not ravenous. Butnow it went to the stomach, which it rippedopen quickly, and at once changed to aravenous, wild creature, as it began drag-ging out the intestines until it had securedthe liver and the heart. Then it settledto feeding; and when it had about fin-ished the performance—I shot. Many ofthe hunters I have met, and some of theauthors I have read, appear to consider

the black leopard a distinct species; but itis simply a freak cub of the ordinary spot-ted leopard, just as the silver and theblack fox are freaks of the common red,In a litter from a red vixen I have seen asilver among red pups; and I met a manin the jungle where Lower Siam meetsthe Malay Peninsula who had found ablack among the spotted leopard’s cubs,upon which, however, the spots, of course,are not very clearly defined until they be-come older. In other experiences of leop-ard hunting throughout Malaya I cameto enjoy it even more than the characterof hunting there made necessary for tiger,which, by the by, is not a tree climber,some of my hunting confreres to the con-trary, notwithstanding. The leopard isnot so strong, nor so formidable an oppo-nent in a fight, but is much more activethan a tiger and is aroused more easilyand is bolder in its attack. Then, too, itstree-climbing habits make it decidedly adangerous and certainly an elusive animalto hunt. In my opinion it is the more in-teresting and sporting animal to stalk,although, of course, as a trophy it is notvalued as the tiger, nor has it the majestyof his Royal Stripes, nor the tremendousonslaught when the attack does come.

The trail of the tiger runs in Sumatraas elsewhere in the Far East. You arealways hearing of him or, as often, of her.Every strange happening, every mysteriousaction or unfamiliar sound which cannotbe explained, is put down to the tiger. Insome places, particularly in India, hisname is never mentioned because of fear-some respect. Fearful and superstitious arethese natives. Incidentally I hunted tigerpretty often, but never succeeded in bring-ing one down; for in these Far Easternjungles it is too dense to beat them out withelephant, as done in India, and it is almostimpossible to organize a sufficient party towalk them out, even where the jungle willpermit of it, as it does in parts of MalayPeninsula. The tiger is too wary to becaught by a tied-up animal. I discoveredthat after sitting up several times overbullocks where tiger tracks were numer-ous. They must be followed on their ownkill, or driven out as in India, or caught inthe dry season, at a water hole, Andsitting up over a tied bullock or a waterhole, for me, at least, has no sport. Myleopard measured five feet six inches from

Uda Pram—Jungle Hunter 1 5

the tip of its nose to the end of its tail, and which they seemed to eat for nourishment.was the only black leopard that I killed- Many of these roots are used for medicinalthe only one, in fact, that I saw; it was un- purposes, and in every native house thereusual good fortune, indeed, for they are is always stowed away a drum filled withsomewhat rare—at least to get. I noticed, roots, leaves and other like nature nos-after I got its pelt off, that in the sun it trums in case of emergency. There werehad a kind of watered silk appearance asa result of the deeper black of the spots,

no noises in this jungle except early in themorning and late at dusk, when a bird I

which, though invisible, were really there never saw called in voice most extraordi-just the same. narily harsh and far reaching.

The jungle we now worked into was Through all the time I was in Sumatradifferent from any I had seen. It was I kept my eye constantly open for thatvery dense, and yet now and again we most marvelously plumaged bird, thecame to comparatively open places, which argus pheasant; but though I once found

Where we left our canoe at the headwaters, and started inland.

in the center usually had a kind of mound, a small feather, I never saw the bird itself.from two to three feet in height, some- Indeed, there are few living men who evertimes six or eight, and sometimes as much have seen it in the wild state. They areas twenty feet in diameter. These mounds the shyest and most difficult to approach,were usually circular and composed of an perhaps, of all living things in the world.interlacing of timber and vines and Nearly all the time it rained, but thatcreepers; they looked like nothing so much did not dampen the activity of the mos-as rubbish heaps left after the surround- quitoes, which raged so persistently anding soil had washed away. Another un- in such swarms around us. Sometimesusual sight was a tree with base standing when tracking rhino they buzzed aboutclear of the soil, and roots spreading hither my head in such multitudes that I couldand thither exposed to view. Sometimes the literally get a handful at every stroke. Itree base was a foot and a half above the annointed my face with pennyroyal, pur-ground, as though it had been forced up chased for the purpose from a wise drug-by its roots. I found wild bananas, and gist who, not having ventured away fromthe natives found many roots and leaves, paved streets, insisted there was nothing

My hunters dressed up, so as to protect their bodies from the thorns of the jungle.

like it to keep off jungle pests. At such long way the best men I secured at anytimes as I was not actually hunting, time in the Far East. Neither Bilal normosquitoes and small flies and red ants Che could speak a word of anything ex-combined to make life quite stirring. I cept Malay, but Bilal was a facile signused to seek the rude, sometimes flesh- talker, and he and I had many ani-tearing slap of the jungle brush against mated conversations through that mediummy face and head—it cleared the field of while we were in the jungle. I usuallymosquitoes for the moment—and often I took him with me in the lead, leaving Udapushed my way through bushes without to round up Che, or to follow independ-using the jungle knife, simply to brush ent tracks. Bilal was not handsome, butaway the swarms of insects that made a he was strong and ready and exceptionallyhalo about my head. Thus attacked good-humored; and his dearest posses-above by the insects and below by the red sion was an undershirt he had somewhereants, one was not lacking occupation at got in trade, and which was especially use-any time. ful in the jungle—but he wore it on all

One day I came on elephant tracks, and occasions. Bilal, so Uda gave me toa broad pathway through the jungle understand, was quite an elephant hunter,showed where they had gone, compara- his professed method being to trap or totively recently, too. Uda and my two steal upon them when sleeping, and, withmen were hot-foot for going after the ele- a long knife fastened to a stick, to cut itsphants, but my time limit was drawing trunk and then follow until the animalnear—and rhino still unfound. Uda, dropped from loss of blood. How suc-after all, proved to be a tolerably fair man cessful he was I never knew.in the jungle. He was not so accom- We had followed a great many tracks,plished as his tales suggested, but, as and twice we had heard rhino, but in coverMalays go, he was a pretty dependable so dense that it was impossible to see it.tracker. Above all he was good-natured. Throughout all those days my men hadIn fact, all three of my men, Uda, Bilal been very patient; and Uda, who said thisand Che, were even-tempered and took the particular section was much like Java, wheretrials as they came—and they came often he professed to have hunted much, now—without getting sulky, and always expressed confidence in our finally gettingseemed ready for more. They were a rhino. One morning early we got on quite

Uda Prang—Jungle Hunter 1 7

fresh tracks, which we followed for severalhours through very dense undergrowth,the rhino meanwhile seeking all the mudholes in the direction of his route. Wetraveled these tracks until noon as swiftlyas we could, and as silently; and as theycontinued so fresh and little more than abreath of air appeared to be stirring, wewent along stealthily, expecting to comeup with the quarry at any time. But itwas nearing five o’clock, with the chill ofapproaching sunset beginning to settle uponthe jungle, and still we followed the trackshopefully—though unrewarded. Then thetracks led into and across one of thosemound-containing spaces to which I havereferred.

It occurred to me as a useful thoughtto get on top of the mound which hap-pened to be a biggish one, and makethe best survey the lookout permitted ofthe other side of the space where the jun-gle was thinnish. And, by the gods, there,barely discernible, was the long sought-for rhino moving around like a greathog. Having more confidence in thesenatives than I had felt in those elsewherein Sumatra, I had given my .50 to Bilal,

who was directly at my heels—Uda andChe had not yet come up to us—and Icarried my 12-bore. The rhino was per-haps not over twenty yards away, yet Icould see him very indistinctly, and Ifeared to maneuver for a better positionlest he get my wind and move away intothe denser jungle, where to view him ateven ten yards would he a most fortunateopportunity; so taking the best sight Icould get as he squashed about, head-ing somewhat in my direction, I put thecontents of both barrels, one after the other,as quickly as I could pull the triggers, justbehind of his shoulder and ranging back.There was a tremendous commotion as hedisappeared, so quickly as to astonish me,with a crash into the jungle. Standingon the mound I could feel a very littlewind and note it was blowing across myposition from east to west, and, as therhino made off to the southwest, I felt surehe would cross my wind and that if he didhe would be likely to charge. It seemedat the moment to be my best chanceof another shot, for of course I couldnot begin to get through the thick jungleat the pace he was going, and would have

Tied up on the River—a Rest for Luncheon.


been left far behind had I attemptedto follow. So I held my position, awaitingdevelopments—knowing I could track himlater, if nothing interesting happened inthe immediate future.

Meanwhile I could not determine hisexact location, but while immediatelyafter the report he seemed going away,in another few moments it appeared tome he was coming toward the openspace. Meantime I was endeavoring toget the cartridges out of the 12-bore,which had a defective ejector, and, as Iwas fingering with this, the rhino brokefrom the jungle, coming directly towardme, charging truly up-wind. It was notover forty feet from where he broke out ofthe jungle to where I stood on the mound,the latter being perhaps twenty feet indiameter, and the rhino came on withouthesitation and without noise except thatmade by his feet and huge bulk, his headheld straight out, not lowered like a bull,and with his little eye squinting savagely.I had hastily handed the 12-bore over toBilal, taking the .50 when the rhino brokefrom the jungle, and as he came up ontothe mound, I fired twice for that wickedeye (the eye of a charging rhino is a prettysmall mark, perhaps you may know), oncemaking a slight superficial wound on theforehead, and again sending the ball intothe fleshy part of the fore shoulder.Neither shot made impression on therhino, which kept coming.

By now he was not more than ten feetfrom me, I should say, and I had justpumped another shell into the barrel, whensuddenly I was thrown off my feet and

over the side of the mound. As I went intothe air, I expected every second to feel therhino’s horn in my side; but I held on tomy rifle (which, curiously, did not go offalthough at full cock) and, when I fell,scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could.To my great relief the rhino had crossedthe mound and was running towards thejungle, with apparently no more thoughtof me than if I had not stood in his patha few seconds before. It did not takeme long to put a ball in back of his car, andhe dropped like a stone—without a sound.

He had but a single horn on the lowerpart of the nose, four inches in height, anda kind of knob where had been, or was to be,another above it. The usual Indian rhino,including the smaller Malay, have one horn,but some of the Sumatra variety have two.

It was an experience rather conclusiveon the question of the rhino charging byscent rather than by sight. He chargedstraight toward me up-wind, and when Idropped off the mound, to the south, I wasthrown off his scent. Either he lostsight of me, as could easily have happened,or he is not governed by sight,—for henever swerved from his path. I foundboth 12-bore bullets in his hind quarters;the .50 ball had gone in behind the rightear, and into the left jaw.

How I came to be thrown off the mound,at what may have been a very timely mo-ment, is explained by the rhino stepping,as he drew near, upon one end of a long,small log on the other end of which Iwas standing; and thus he teetered meout of his path.

It was a lucky teeter for me.

The Malayan Tapir.

4 uda prang—jungle hunter -...

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