Also Perhap .... The Kriss Incarnadine 1

....

He stood there for a long moment, searching the

room with his eyes till they fell upon me. Then he

crept forward, and, regarding my master carefully the

while, he took me up and drew me slowly and noiselessly

from the sheath. I wondered what he could

want with me at the dead of night ; I wondered what

my master would do if he saw that man standing by

his head with his own naked kris in his hand, and I

saw how easy it would be to kill the Buggis as he lay

there, should the stranger desire it. Evidently that was

not his intention, for, with the same precautions, and

without any hurry, he returned whence he had come,

raised the heavy arras, stooped under them and passed

in. As the gaudily-coloured folds of stuff fell into

their places, the stranger dropped on his knee beside

the handsome girl, whom I had already observed as the

favourite of the mistress of the house. The girl was

locked in that profound sleep wherein respiration seems

almost to cease, and not the slightest movement stirred

the sleeper.

Again I wondered, what could the man want with

me ? Still, I had not lived all those years in the

Sultan's Astlna without learning something, and I saw

that, if there was to be any killing, the stranger had

come unprepared ; for there was no weapon within

the curtains but the one he held in his hand.

The man listened to the girl's hardly perceptible

breathing for a while, and looked fixedly at her. She

wore, as was the custom of that country, a short silk

jacket with tight sleeves, and a pair of loose trousers,

things seldom or never worn in the house. Thrown

negligently over her was the silk sarong or skirt, the

garment common to both men and women. Except for

the girl's regular breathing there was not a sound inside

the curtain ; but occasionally the faintly-sounding

movements or a restless sleeper came, half-smothered,

from without. The stranger stooped down close over

the girl, and put^the fingers of his left hand under a

silken cord, tied so tightly that it cut into her waist.

Then, very carefully, to avoid cutting himself or her,

he took me by the blade, near the point, in the fingers

of his right hand, and getting the kris under the cord

by raising it with two fingers of his left hand the

razor-like edge severed it in an instant, and at the same

moment the sleeper awoke.

I was outraged. Was I a pair of scissors to be used

for cutting thread ? Was it for this that Tukang Burok

had fashioned me and then paid for his labour with his

own life ? Why did not my master wake and strike

this man, as the Sultan struck the unoffending smith ?

Alas ! I could not shout for help, and, though the girl

seemed to want it, and fought desperately, she uttered

no cry, only struggled to get free from the man who

seemed at last to lose his temper, and, seizing me by the

hilt, placed the point close to her heart and threatened

to kill her if she were not quiet. Either she did not

believe him, or she did not care, for she wriggled out or

his grasp and, lifting the far side of the curtain, disappeared

into the women's apartment, where he dared

not follow her.

The stranger threw himselfon the mattress exhausted

by the struggle ; but, as he regained his composure, he

looked at me in a pensive, distrait fashion, and smiled as

he swore gently under his breath. Then he lay down

and slept ; but at dawn, before the Buggis was awake,

he took me back and put me in my sheath again.

We left the place for my master's village, two

hundred miles nearer the coast, but about a month later,

when my master was going up river, we met the

stranger being paddled down stream, and, as the boats

passed each other, I saw that same girl look out of the

after-house window of his boat, and smile as she said

something to her companion. I think she was reminding

him of the evening when he borrowed me. One

sees as much, and may learn as much, on that western

waterway, as in the Astana of an East Coast Sultan.

After a time, white men came into the Peninsula and

made trouble, so that the Buggis determined to leave

the place. Just before his departure, a boy who had

seen me, and thought I was too good for a foreigner,

appropriated me and made his way back to the upcountry

fastness where he dwelt.

Years passed and my new owner quarrelled with a

Javanese, stabbed him to death and fled into the jungle.

No one cared much, and as the boy had many powerful

relatives he managed to evade capture. But he was

married, and though he was a proclaimed outlaw, his

young wife remained in her husband's house in the

centre of a considerable village. The husband used to

appear at unexpected moments and demand food and

shelter, and, when his wants had been satisfied, he

remained in the house till he was warned that further

delay would cost him his liberty. The absences were

long, the moments passed with his wife brief, and the

outlaw became suspicious of the girl's fidelity. Perhaps

the poisonous breath of gossip penetrated to his uncertain

hiding-places, perhaps jealousy alone was responsible, or

perhaps, having little else to do, he acted as his own

detective and made some discovery. Whatever the

cause the village awoke one day to the knowledge that

the man had murdered his wife and left a message with

some wanderer, whom he met by the way, to the effect

that there were twelve people in the neighbourhood

whose lives he meant to take. As a curious instance or

the panic that one desperate man may cause, it is a fact

that, from this time forward, the people of the village

would not go about singly, and all the houses were shut

and barricaded at four o'clock in the afternoon. The

two murders following on each other so quickly, the

outlaw's boastful threat, and the report that he was

armed with a wonderful kris, caused the same paralysing

fear as the knowledge that an amok-runner

is abroad, ready to slay whomsoever shall cross his

path.

The feelings of a large section of the villagers were,

however, affected by the fact that the murdered girl

had many relatives, and these, indifferent, or even

sympathetic, to a man who had only slain a stranger,

desired vengeance for the blood of their kinswoman.

Therefore the people of the district herded together to

seek the murderer, and beat the jungle for him as

they would for a man-eating tiger, but without result.

Then the white men, who, by this time controlled the

government of the country, took the case up and warned

the native headmen that they would be held responsible

if the murderer were not arrested within a given time.

The headmen appeared to be very zealous in the

pursuit, and scoured the country with hundreds of

armed followers, but found no trace of the man who

had caused all this commotion.

It may have been that some more powerful native

authority had issued secret instructions to search the

least likely coverts ;

it may have been that none of the

searchers particularly relished the idea of meeting a

desperate and well-armed man. Whatever the cause,

the murderer was still at large when the services of a

foreign Malay, of rank and tried courage, were enlisted

to do what the people of the country could not or would

not accomplish.

This stranger took with him only two followers,

and, going straight to the village where the murderer's

house was situated, they quietly obtained the information

they wanted, and in twenty-four hours were hot

on the trail of the outlaw. My latest master had

discovered a deserted hut in a patch of bananas,

surrounded by dense forest, unknown to almost

every one, but still at no great distance from the scene

of his last crime. There he had dwelt in hiding ever

since he murdered his wife, but, even then, his whereabouts

were known to some of his own family, who

supplied him with food, though they held no intercourse

with him beyond telling him of the intentions

and exploits of the great search parties, whose halfhearted

schemes he easily baffled. When the foreign

Raja took up the trail the affair assumed a different

complexion. His inquiries were conducted mainly

through foreign Malays, his following was small, his

movements rapid, his object fixed and unwavering, his

courage of the highest order, and he kept his own

counsel. Therefore it happened that, as my master

was sitting at sundown, within the open door of the

hut, his body hidden, but his legs visible in the doorway,

he was startled by hearing a voice in the banana

patch call him by name, saying,

" Come out, it is

I, Raja Radin, who am waiting for you." My

master seized a pair of spears that were leaning against

the wall and rushed down the steps to the ground.

At a distance of only a few yards, right in the

path leading to the door, stood Raja Radin, who had

not even drawn the'Jcris he carried in his belt. Behind

him were two followers, one armed with a gun and the

other with a spear.

My master ran straight at the Raja, casting a spear

which the other avoided. Then, with the second

spear in both hands, the assailant thrust with all his

might at the Raja, but the blade passed through his

trousers and the force of the ineffective blow brought

the outlaw to his knee. As Raja Radin grasped the

shaft of the spear, the outlaw whipped me from my

sheath but, before he could strike, one of the mens

behind the Raja thrust his spear over his chief's

shoulder and the point entering my master's neck

thrust him back on to the ground. Almost at the

same moment the man with the musket fired, and the

bullet, striking the outlaw fair in the chest, killed him

almost instantly. The Raja, who had never drawn his

kris, was very angry with his followers, saying, he meant

to take the outlaw alive and would have done so if they

had shown a little more courage. As it was, there

was nothing to be done but to carry the body to the

nearest police station, the Raja possessing himself or

the dead man's kris.

Thus I changed hands again, and I was not sorry to

be in such good keeping, for there are few men, white

or brown, with a stouter heart than little Raja Radin,

of Sumatra.

It was very Malay-like that when the dead man's

body was carried, next morning, to the police station,

the Raja and his two followers were scowled at by every

man and boy in the crowd of Malays who collected

round the little procession. Had it not been for the

Raja's personal reputation, his recent exhibition ot

prowess, and the knowledge that the Government was

behind him, I think there would have been more

blood shed on that day.

Raja Radin, like every other fighting Malay that I

have ever seen, suffered from a permanant state of

impecuniosity, and before twelve months had passed

he sold me to a white man, saying that, since Malay

rule was over, a kris was more or less of a useless

luxury, and the one he had worn for so many years

would serve him to the end.

So I came to be a white man's plaything ; not that

he used me ill ; he did not cut cake with me, or lay

me on the floor for dancers to caper over, as I have

seen other white men do with their dishonoured blades.

My complaint was that he did not use me at all. I

was cared for, and honoured, and made much of, and

my latest owner would draw me from the sheath and

praise my virtues as though he were a Malay. But

for all that, I lay upon the table, where I never heard

the sound of voices raised in anger, or saw the bloodlight

darken any man's eye.

And now, once again, I have found a new home :

for the white man has given me to a white woman.

I have seen her and I am glad. For all her fair face,

and pretty child-like ways, it will go ill with any one

who really angers her, if I am within her reach. And

she is a woman over whom, unless I am mistaken,

many a man has lost his head and some their lives.

The measure is not yet full ; for though many have

sought, none has been chosen, so there has been no

betrayal. With trust there is always the possibility of

betrayal, and with betrayal will come my opportunity.

Also Perhap .... THE KRIS INCARNADINE

..... Sir Frank Swettenham...... 

It was that strange birth-mark, that silent witness

of the engine-room tragedy, which gained for me the

name of " The Kris ber-d&rah" and, as the people of

the island began with the change of monsoon and the

coming of fair weather to visit the mainland, there

was a good deal of talk of this latest creation of Tukang

Burok, the famous fashioner of the snake-like kris. In

time the tale reached the ear of the Sultan to whom

the island belonged, and, when he had heard all that

could be said by the jealous, the spiteful and the

marvel-tellers, he sent a message to Tukang Burok

summoning him to come into the presence, and to

bring the " kris blr-darah" Tukang Burok obeyed,

as how should he not ; but it was with misgivings that

he received the message, which he knew meant the

loss of his darling, if no worse should befall him. Like

all true artists, he valued his creation more than any

p Blood-stained, stranger could, for he knew that it was the best work he had ever done, and the stain, the crimson blot

that sometimes looked like wet blood well, that was

magic, it was fate, it was fame it would carry his

name, through ages and generations, wherever the

Malay language was spoken.

Tukang Burok had made a beautiful scabbard from

the heart of the kamumng tree a fitting casket for the

jewel that he had determined no money should buy

from him. A handle, too, he had fashioned, a handle

of ivory, wrought cunningly into the likeness of a

bird's head and neck, the form of kris-hilt handed

down, as the Malays say, from " the time of the first

day." Then, in obedience to the Sultan's command,

he sailed across the sea in a little boat with his son a

boy in his teens, and on a morning when an opal

haze hung over the water, the palm-fringed shore, and

the picturesque village spread along the sweeping

curve within a wide river's mouth, they tacked slowly

into the haven and made fast to the rude landingstage.

The smith landed with his son, and, having stated

his business, was told to call at the Sultan's audience

hall a little before noon. This he did, and found his

royal master sitting, with a few of his chiefs and henchmen,

on the raised dais just outside the curtain that

hung over the door into " the Within," where dwelt

the Sultan's wives and all his women folk. The smith

made obeisance and sat down afar oft, on the lowest

step of the audience hall, the kris carefully covered by

the skirt which every Malay wears over his trousers,

and which reaches from waist to knee. The smith's

child also made obeisance and sat down behind his

father.

Presently the Sultan called, "Is that Tukang

Burok?" and the smith answered, "It is your

Highness's slave.""Approach !"said the Sultan, and the smith

humbly drew himself to a place near his master, but

still beneath him.

The Sultan desired him to come up on to the same

level with himself, and finally Tukang Burok squatted

on the floor within a few feet of his lord. But the boy

remained on the bottom step below the dais.

After some questions as to when the smith arrived,

how long the voyage had taken, and what weather he

had had, the Sultan said :

" Hast thou brought the kris ?

" And the smith

replied,

" It is here, your Highness."

" Give it," said the Sultan ;

" we wish to see it.

The report is that the kris is a marvel."

" Thy servant's work is indifferent," said the smith,

" but by God's grace the kris is not a very bad one.

Have I your Highness's permission ?

" he added, as he

put his hand to his waist. The Sultan signified his

consent, and Tukang Burck slowly uncovered the hilt

of the kris, drew from his belt the weapon (still in its

scabbard), and, leaning forward till he was almost prostrate,

presented it with the handle towards the Sultan.

The Sultan took it, looked at the scabbard and the

handle, and then slowly drew the blade from the

sheath and gazed long and earnestly at it, holding it

in different lights and different positions to see all its

points.

As he realised the marvellous perfection of the

design, the admirable balance, the wonderful damascening

of the blade, the cunning fashion of the

dragon at the base, the graceful curves and the long,

clean run to the point, a hungry look of exceeding

avarice and cruelty came into his eyes, and his hand

involuntarily closed tightly on the hilt in a grip

that told me he did not mean to let me go.

" What is this red mark ? "he said. " Some

cunning trick of yours, we suppose."

"Nay, your Highness," said the smith,

" it is none of my making, it came like that of itself."

"A lie !"said the Sultan," but though your name

is bad "for " Burok " means damaged " the kris

is well enough. What is the price of it ? "

" A thousand pardons, your Highness," said the

smith, who knew that the evil moment had come,

" your slave had no intention of selling the kris."

"Ah, you dog ! "said the Sultan, in fury of real

desire and simulated anger,"you do not want to

sell ? Then you shall not. You bastard ! you dare to

make a weapon and try to hide it from your master ?

But you shall never make another, and we will see

whether you are such a clever smith as you pretend."

With that the Sultan sprang up and drove me straight

into Tukang Burok's throat, down through bone

and muscle, till the point of the blade must have

reached the smith's heart. He gasped out,

" God ! my Lord, God Almighty !" and fell forward on his face

with a horrible gurgle of blood-choking in his throat.

Every one had jumped to his feet, and, as they

raised Tukang Burok, the Sultan, with some difficulty,

pulled me out of the body, and a great stream of blood

gushed on to the floor and dyed the boards with the

colour of my name.

"It is a good weapon, after all," said the Sultan,

with a chuckle, as he picked up the sheath and retired

behind the curtain. There he carefully cleaned the

blade, and expressed great astonishment and delight

at the fact that the crimson stain shone brighter

than ever against its silver-grey background.

No one had noticed the boy, the smith's son ;

but when he saw his father murdered, he had run

out of the hall and courtyard sobbing as though his

heart would break. Presently, those about the Sultan

remembered him, and asked their master what should

be done with the child and his father's boat. His

Highness generously consented to make use of both,

and the boy was ordered into the King's household

to hew wood and draw water and make himself

generally useful. But the Sultan carried me in his

girdle by day, placed me by his pillow at night, and

never ceased to sing my praises and make opportunities

for trying my penetrating powers on those of his

subjects whom he desired to get rid of.

To describe my existence while I remained in

the possession of the Sultan would be to catalogue

a long list of revolting murders. If you know the

life of an independent Malay Raja of evil tendencies,

you will understand the circumstances und-er which

he personally uses a weapon on his subjects in time

of peace ; if you don't, what I have told you of

the death of the smith is sufficient, without my

enlightening you further. My release came about

through the boy. Tukang Burok's son, mindful of

his father's death and eager for a vengeance which

all his traditions forbade him to exact, waited till

he had grown to be a man, and then stole me, the

Kris Incarnadine, and after many perils and adventures

made his way through the jungles of the Peninsula,

across the pathless hills and swamps, to the country

of the wild people, and thence to the states bordering

the western shores of Malaya. Burdened by the

knowledge of my now widespread fame, fearful of

the consequences to himself should his identity be

recognised by the weapon he carried, and driven to

desperation by poverty, he sold me to a Celebes chief,

an exile from his own country, with a record likely

to induce him to make the most of his bargain and

keep his own counsel as to what he had secured

and its value.

I was not sorry for the change or ownership. For

though I hated being used as a butcher's knife to

slaughter the defenceless, and had rejoiced to find

myself in the possession of the son of the man who

had expended all his skill in fashioning me to be

a warrior's pride and held of more account than

any woman ; yet, the boy's hunted life and poor

estate deprived me of my birthright, sentenced me to

a mean and wretched existence, wherein I counted

for little and was often for days and weeks allowed

to rust in my sheath.

The Buggis man (that is what the Malays call the

people of Celebes) took a pride in me and appreciated

my value, though he did not know my name or

history. Neither by day nor night was I ever separated

from him ; for, in the daytime, he carried me in his

belt, and at night I lay beside his pillow, ready to

his hand.

One night, my new owner was sleeping in the house

of a district chief whose guest he was, as were others

not in any way connected with him. It was a time

of trouble, and the air was full of rumours of fighting,

our host barricading his house every night. It was a

large house, with many rooms, for the owner was the

principal chief in that neighbourhood. The people of

the house were many ; men and women, boys and

girls, but principally girls, who did all the house-work

of their feudal chief and his wife. The men and the

boys went and came, and, from the talk of the mistress,

I understood that they had charge of some valuable

mines at a little distance. But the girls were always

there, busy about the house-duties, looking after

children, making mats, embroidering pillows, and

waiting upon the guests. Some of them were wellfavoured,

some ill, but there was one who, according

to Malay ideas of beauty, was a pearl, a fragrant

blossom, a heart's delight and despair. The guests

were also many and they often succeeded each other ;

but, whether they travelled by road or river, they all

gravitated towards this house at the hour of the evening

meal, and then, Malay-like, they would talk far into

the night of fights and weapons, of women and money,

until, in sheer exhaustion, they lay down with a pillow

and mat on any vacant space of floor, and slept ;

grunting and moaning, snoring and mumbling in their

dreams, till day dawned.

We had been in the house for three or four days,

and, amongst others, there was a young fellow of some

authority, with a swaggering manner and a facile

tongue, who talked to the old lady of the house the

while he was ogling her most ravoured attendants.

He seemed to be a favourite, for, one night when

every one was getting ready for sleep, the hostess gave

up her bed to him and went elsewhere ; while, of the

rest, my master, the Buggis, was the only one who

remained in the room, and he slept on a mat on the

floor, his head on a pillow, after placing me close

beside him, on the mat, ready for instant use.

It must have been in the first or second hours of the

new day, when the snores of some of the many sleepers

in different parts of the house were the only sounds

to break the stillness, that the patch-work curtain,

surrounding the great square bed-place of our hostess,

was slowly lifted, and the guest, to whom it had been

allotted, emerged noiselessly and then stood still, looking

round the room, which was vaguely lighted by a tiny

wick swimming in a vessel of oil.

compliment to sabrizain and his collection

Ayatul Kursi dan Ikhlas..............

 

Lanjutan Mari Mengenali

Thank you pic owner and www.recipes.co.nz