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<h2> CHAPTER 39 </h2>
<p>‘All the events of that night have a great importance, since they brought
about a situation which remained unchanged till Jim’s return. Jim had been
away in the interior for more than a week, and it was Dain Waris who had
directed the first repulse. That brave and intelligent youth (“who knew
how to fight after the manner of white men”) wished to settle the business
off-hand, but his people were too much for him. He had not Jim’s racial
prestige and the reputation of invincible, supernatural power. He was not
the visible, tangible incarnation of unfailing truth and of unfailing
victory. Beloved, trusted, and admired as he was, he was still one of <i>them</i>,
while Jim was one of us. Moreover, the white man, a tower of strength in
himself, was invulnerable, while Dain Waris could be killed. Those
unexpressed thoughts guided the opinions of the chief men of the town, who
elected to assemble in Jim’s fort for deliberation upon the emergency, as
if expecting to find wisdom and courage in the dwelling of the absent
white man. The shooting of Brown’s ruffians was so far good, or lucky,
that there had been half-a-dozen casualties amongst the defenders. The
wounded were lying on the verandah tended by their women-folk. The women
and children from the lower part of the town had been sent into the fort
at the first alarm. There Jewel was in command, very efficient and
high-spirited, obeyed by Jim’s “own people,” who, quitting in a body their
little settlement under the stockade, had gone in to form the garrison.
The refugees crowded round her; and through the whole affair, to the very
disastrous last, she showed an extraordinary martial ardour. It was to her
that Dain Waris had gone at once at the first intelligence of danger, for
you must know that Jim was the only one in Patusan who possessed a store
of gunpowder. Stein, with whom he had kept up intimate relations by
letters, had obtained from the Dutch Government a special authorisation to
export five hundred kegs of it to Patusan. The powder-magazine was a small
hut of rough logs covered entirely with earth, and in Jim’s absence the
girl had the key. In the council, held at eleven o’clock in the evening in
Jim’s dining-room, she backed up Waris’s advice for immediate and vigorous
action. I am told that she stood up by the side of Jim’s empty chair at
the head of the long table and made a warlike impassioned speech, which
for the moment extorted murmurs of approbation from the assembled headmen.
Old Doramin, who had not showed himself outside his own gate for more than
a year, had been brought across with great difficulty. He was, of course,
the chief man there. The temper of the council was very unforgiving, and
the old man’s word would have been decisive; but it is my opinion that,
well aware of his son’s fiery courage, he dared not pronounce the word.
More dilatory counsels prevailed. A certain Haji Saman pointed out at
great length that “these tyrannical and ferocious men had delivered
themselves to a certain death in any case. They would stand fast on their
hill and starve, or they would try to regain their boat and be shot from
ambushes across the creek, or they would break and fly into the forest and
perish singly there.” He argued that by the use of proper stratagems these
evil-minded strangers could be destroyed without the risk of a battle, and
his words had a great weight, especially with the Patusan men proper. What
unsettled the minds of the townsfolk was the failure of the Rajah’s boats
to act at the decisive moment. It was the diplomatic Kassim who
represented the Rajah at the council. He spoke very little, listened
smilingly, very friendly and impenetrable. During the sitting messengers
kept arriving every few minutes almost, with reports of the invaders’
proceedings. Wild and exaggerated rumours were flying: there was a large
ship at the mouth of the river with big guns and many more men—some
white, others with black skins and of bloodthirsty appearance. They were
coming with many more boats to exterminate every living thing. A sense of
near, incomprehensible danger affected the common people. At one moment
there was a panic in the courtyard amongst the women; shrieking; a rush;
children crying—Haji Sunan went out to quiet them. Then a fort
sentry fired at something moving on the river, and nearly killed a
villager bringing in his women-folk in a canoe together with the best of
his domestic utensils and a dozen fowls. This caused more confusion.
Meantime the palaver inside Jim’s house went on in the presence of the
girl. Doramin sat fierce-faced, heavy, looking at the speakers in turn,
and breathing slow like a bull. He didn’t speak till the last, after
Kassim had declared that the Rajah’s boats would be called in because the
men were required to defend his master’s stockade. Dain Waris in his
father’s presence would offer no opinion, though the girl entreated him in
Jim’s name to speak out. She offered him Jim’s own men in her anxiety to
have these intruders driven out at once. He only shook his head, after a
glance or two at Doramin. Finally, when the council broke up it had been
decided that the houses nearest the creek should be strongly occupied to
obtain the command of the enemy’s boat. The boat itself was not to be
interfered with openly, so that the robbers on the hill should be tempted
to embark, when a well-directed fire would kill most of them, no doubt. To
cut off the escape of those who might survive, and to prevent more of them
coming up, Dain Waris was ordered by Doramin to take an armed party of
Bugis down the river to a certain spot ten miles below Patusan, and there
form a camp on the shore and blockade the stream with the canoes. I don’t
believe for a moment that Doramin feared the arrival of fresh forces. My
opinion is that his conduct was guided solely by his wish to keep his son
out of harm’s way. To prevent a rush being made into the town the
construction of a stockade was to be commenced at daylight at the end of
the street on the left bank. The old nakhoda declared his intention to
command there himself. A distribution of powder, bullets, and
percussion-caps was made immediately under the girl’s supervision. Several
messengers were to be dispatched in different directions after Jim, whose
exact whereabouts were unknown. These men started at dawn, but before that
time Kassim had managed to open communications with the besieged Brown.</p>
<p>‘That accomplished diplomatist and confidant of the Rajah, on leaving the
fort to go back to his master, took into his boat Cornelius, whom he found
slinking mutely amongst the people in the courtyard. Kassim had a little
plan of his own and wanted him for an interpreter. Thus it came about that
towards morning Brown, reflecting upon the desperate nature of his
position, heard from the marshy overgrown hollow an amicable, quavering,
strained voice crying—in English—for permission to come up,
under a promise of personal safety and on a very important errand. He was
overjoyed. If he was spoken to he was no longer a hunted wild beast. These
friendly sounds took off at once the awful stress of vigilant watchfulness
as of so many blind men not knowing whence the deathblow might come. He
pretended a great reluctance. The voice declared itself “a white man—a
poor, ruined, old man who had been living here for years.” A mist, wet and
chilly, lay on the slopes of the hill, and after some more shouting from
one to the other, Brown called out, “Come on, then, but alone, mind!” As a
matter of fact—he told me, writhing with rage at the recollection of
his helplessness—it made no difference. They couldn’t see more than
a few yards before them, and no treachery could make their position worse.
By-and-by Cornelius, in his week-day attire of a ragged dirty shirt and
pants, barefooted, with a broken-rimmed pith hat on his head, was made out
vaguely, sidling up to the defences, hesitating, stopping to listen in a
peering posture. “Come along! You are safe,” yelled Brown, while his men
stared. All their hopes of life became suddenly centered in that
dilapidated, mean newcomer, who in profound silence clambered clumsily
over a felled tree-trunk, and shivering, with his sour, mistrustful face,
looked about at the knot of bearded, anxious, sleepless desperadoes.</p>
<p>‘Half an hour’s confidential talk with Cornelius opened Brown’s eyes as to
the home affairs of Patusan. He was on the alert at once. There were
possibilities, immense possibilities; but before he would talk over
Cornelius’s proposals he demanded that some food should be sent up as a
guarantee of good faith. Cornelius went off, creeping sluggishly down the
hill on the side of the Rajah’s palace, and after some delay a few of
Tunku Allang’s men came up, bringing a scanty supply of rice, chillies,
and dried fish. This was immeasurably better than nothing. Later on
Cornelius returned accompanying Kassim, who stepped out with an air of
perfect good-humoured trustfulness, in sandals, and muffled up from neck
to ankles in dark-blue sheeting. He shook hands with Brown discreetly, and
the three drew aside for a conference. Brown’s men, recovering their
confidence, were slapping each other on the back, and cast knowing glances
at their captain while they busied themselves with preparations for
cooking.</p>
<p>‘Kassim disliked Doramin and his Bugis very much, but he hated the new
order of things still more. It had occurred to him that these whites,
together with the Rajah’s followers, could attack and defeat the Bugis
before Jim’s return. Then, he reasoned, general defection of the townsfolk
was sure to follow, and the reign of the white man who protected poor
people would be over. Afterwards the new allies could be dealt with. They
would have no friends. The fellow was perfectly able to perceive the
difference of character, and had seen enough of white men to know that
these newcomers were outcasts, men without country. Brown preserved a
stern and inscrutable demeanour. When he first heard Cornelius’s voice
demanding admittance, it brought merely the hope of a loophole for escape.
In less than an hour other thoughts were seething in his head. Urged by an
extreme necessity, he had come there to steal food, a few tons of rubber
or gum may be, perhaps a handful of dollars, and had found himself
enmeshed by deadly dangers. Now in consequence of these overtures from
Kassim he began to think of stealing the whole country. Some confounded
fellow had apparently accomplished something of the kind—single-handed
at that. Couldn’t have done it very well though. Perhaps they could work
together—squeeze everything dry and then go out quietly. In the
course of his negotiations with Kassim he became aware that he was
supposed to have a big ship with plenty of men outside. Kassim begged him
earnestly to have this big ship with his many guns and men brought up the
river without delay for the Rajah’s service. Brown professed himself
willing, and on this basis the negotiation was carried on with mutual
distrust. Three times in the course of the morning the courteous and
active Kassim went down to consult the Rajah and came up busily with his
long stride. Brown, while bargaining, had a sort of grim enjoyment in
thinking of his wretched schooner, with nothing but a heap of dirt in her
hold, that stood for an armed ship, and a Chinaman and a lame
ex-beachcomber of Levuka on board, who represented all his many men. In
the afternoon he obtained further doles of food, a promise of some money,
and a supply of mats for his men to make shelters for themselves. They lay
down and snored, protected from the burning sunshine; but Brown, sitting
fully exposed on one of the felled trees, feasted his eyes upon the view
of the town and the river. There was much loot there. Cornelius, who had
made himself at home in the camp, talked at his elbow, pointing out the
localities, imparting advice, giving his own version of Jim’s character,
and commenting in his own fashion upon the events of the last three years.
Brown, who, apparently indifferent and gazing away, listened with
attention to every word, could not make out clearly what sort of man this
Jim could be. “What’s his name? Jim! Jim! That’s not enough for a man’s
name.” “They call him,” said Cornelius scornfully, “Tuan Jim here. As you
may say Lord Jim.” “What is he? Where does he come from?” inquired Brown.
“What sort of man is he? Is he an Englishman?” “Yes, yes, he’s an
Englishman. I am an Englishman too. From Malacca. He is a fool. All you
have to do is to kill him and then you are king here. Everything belongs
to him,” explained Cornelius. “It strikes me he may be made to share with
somebody before very long,” commented Brown half aloud. “No, no. The
proper way is to kill him the first chance you get, and then you can do
what you like,” Cornelius would insist earnestly. “I have lived for many
years here, and I am giving you a friend’s advice.”</p>
<p>‘In such converse and in gloating over the view of Patusan, which he had
determined in his mind should become his prey, Brown whiled away most of
the afternoon, his men, meantime, resting. On that day Dain Waris’s fleet
of canoes stole one by one under the shore farthest from the creek, and
went down to close the river against his retreat. Of this Brown was not
aware, and Kassim, who came up the knoll an hour before sunset, took good
care not to enlighten him. He wanted the white man’s ship to come up the
river, and this news, he feared, would be discouraging. He was very
pressing with Brown to send the “order,” offering at the same time a
trusty messenger, who for greater secrecy (as he explained) would make his
way by land to the mouth of the river and deliver the “order” on board.
After some reflection Brown judged it expedient to tear a page out of his
pocket-book, on which he simply wrote, “We are getting on. Big job. Detain
the man.” The stolid youth selected by Kassim for that service performed
it faithfully, and was rewarded by being suddenly tipped, head first, into
the schooner’s empty hold by the ex-beachcomber and the Chinaman, who
thereupon hastened to put on the hatches. What became of him afterwards
Brown did not say.’</p>
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