nt of this poor fellow's fate: "On my arrival at Sarawak, we
were received with the usual honors; and the first thing I heard
of was the decease of my poor companion, Si Tundo of Magindano, who
had been put to death by the rajah's orders. The course of justice,
or, rather, injustice, or perhaps, more justly, a mixture of both,
is so characteristic of the people, that I am tempted to give the
particulars. Si Tundo fell in love with a woman belonging to an adopted
son of Macota, and the passion being mutual, the lady eloped from her
master and went to her lover's house. This being discovered in a short
time, he was ordered to surrender her to Macota, which he reluctantly
did, on an understanding that he was to be allowed to marry her on
giving a proper dowry. Either not being able to procure the money,
or the terms not being kept, Si Tundo and a relation (who had left
the pirate fleet and resided with him) mounted to Macota's hill,
and threatened to take the woman and to burn the house. The village,
however, being roused, they were unable to effect their purpose,
and retired to their own residence. Here they remained for some days
in a state of incessant watchfulness; and when they moved, they each
carried their kempilan, and wore the krisses ready to the hand. The
Rajah Muda Hassim, being well aware of the state of things, sent, at
this crisis, to order Si Tundo and his friend to his presence; which
order they obeyed forthwith, and entered the balei, or audience-hall,
which was full of their enemies. According to Muda Hassim's account,
he was anxious to save Si Tundo's life, and offered him another wife;
but, his affections being fixed on the girl of his own choice, he
rejected the offer, only praying he might have the woman he loved. On
entering the presence of the rajah, surrounded by foes, and dreading
treachery (which most probably was intended), these unfortunate men
added to their previous fault by one which, however slight in European
estimation, is here of an aggravated nature--they entered the presence
with their kempilans in their hands, and their sarongs clear of the
kris-handle; and instead of seating themselves cross-legged, they
only squatted on their hams, ready for self-defense. From that hour
their doom was resolved on: the crime of disrespect was deemed worthy
of death, though their previous crime of abduction and violence might
have obtained pardon. It was no easy matter, however, among an abject
and ti