Chapter 58 - The Grand Bear Hunt by Mayne Reid
The Cabbage-Eater
Our heroes now, having accomplished their mission to Borneo, were about to cross over to the island of Sumatra; in which—as well as in Java, or upon the mainland of Malacca—they would find the other sun-bear, known as the ursus malayanus; but previous to their departure from Sambos, they obtained information that led them to believe that this species also inhabited the island of Borneo. It was more rarely met with than the orange-breasted variety; but the natives, generally better guides than the anatomists in the matter of specific distinctions, stoutly maintained that there were two kinds; and the Dyak bee-hunter—whose interest had been secured by the ample reward already bestowed upon him—promised them, that if they would go with him to a certain district of country, he would show them the larger species of bruang. From the man’s description of it Alexis easily recognised the ursus malayanus—the species they had killed being the ursus euryspilus.
Indeed, had there been any doubt about this matter, it would have been set at rest, by what our travellers saw in the streets of Sambos. There both species were exhibited by the itinerant jugglers—for both the sun-bears can be easily tamed and trained—and these men stated that they had procured the “big bruang,” in the woods of Borneo.
Since, then, he was there to be found, why go to Sumatra in search of him? They had still travelling enough before them; and they were beginning to get tired of it. It was natural that—after so long an absence and the endurance of so many perils and hardships—they should be longing for home, and the comforts of that fine palace on the banks of the Neva.
They resolved, therefore, to accompany the Dyak guide on a new expedition.
They were a whole day upon the journey; and just before nightfall reached the place, where the man expected to fall in with the big bruangs. Of course, they could not commence their search before morning. They baited, therefore, and formed camp—their Dyak guide erecting a bamboo hut in less than an hour, and thatching it over with the huge leaves of the wild musaceae.
The place where they had halted was in the midst of a magnificent grove, or rather a forest, of palms; of that kind called nibong by the natives, which is a species of the genus arenga. It is one of the “cabbage” palms; that is, its young leaves before expanding are eaten by the natives as a vegetable after the manner in which Europeans use cabbage. They are of a delicate whiteness, with a sweet nutty flavour; and, in point of excellence, are even superior to those of the cocoa-nut, or even the West India cabbage palm (areca oleracea). But the nibong is put by the Borneans and other natives of the Indian Archipelago to a great variety of uses. Its round stem is employed as uprights and rafters for their houses. Split into lathes, it serves for the flooring. Sugar can be obtained from the saccharine juice of its spadix, which also ferments into an intoxicating beverage; and sago exists in abundance within the trunk. Pens and arrows for blow-guns are also made from the midribs of the side leaves; and, in fact, the arenga saccharifera, like many other palms, serves for an endless variety of purposes.
Alexis was greatly interested by the appearance of this beautiful tree; but it was too late when they arrived on the ground for him to have an opportunity of examining it. The half-hour before darkness had been occupied in the construction of the hut—in which all hands had borne part.
Early in the morning, Alexis—still curious about the arenga-trees—and desirous of ascertaining to what genus of palms they belonged—strayed off among them, in hopes of procuring a flower. The others remained by the hut, preparing breakfast.
Alexis saw none of the trees in flower, their great spathes being yet unfolded; but, toping to find some one more forward than the rest, he kept on for a considerable distance through the forest.
As he was walking leisurely along, his eyes at intervals turned upward to the fronds of the palms, he saw that one of the trunks directly in front of him was in motion. He stopped and listened. He heard a sound as of something in the act of being rent, just as if some one was plucking leaves from the trees. The sound proceeded from the one that was in motion; but it was only its trunk that he saw; and whatever was causing the noise and the movement appeared to be up among the great fronds at its crown.
Alexis regretted that he had left his gun behind him. He had no other weapon with him but his knife. Not that he was afraid: for the animal could not be an elephant in the top of a palm-tree, nor a rhinoceros; and these were the only quadrupeds that need be greatly dreaded in a Bornean forest: since the royal tiger, though common enough both in Java and Sumatra, is not an inhabitant of Borneo.
It was not fear that caused him to regret having left his gun behind him; but simply that he should lose the chance of shooting some animal—perhaps a rare one. That it was a large one he could tell by the movement of the tree: since no squirrel or small quadruped could have caused the stout trunk of the palm to vibrate in such a violent manner.
I need not say how the regret of the young hunter was increased, when he approached the tree, and looking up, saw what the animal really was—a bear, and that bear the true ursus malayanus! Yes, there was he, with his black body, yellowish muzzle, and white half-moon upon his breast—busy gorging himself upon the tender leaflets of the arenga—whose white fragments, constantly dropping from his jaws, strewed the ground at the bottom of the tree.
Alexis now remembered that this was a well-known habit of the Malayan bear—whose favourite food is the “cabbage” of palm-trees, and who often extends his depredations to the cocoa plantations, destroying hundreds of trees before he can be detected and destroyed himself. Of course this wild arenga wood—furnishing the bear with as much “cabbage” as he might require—was just the place for him; and Alexis now understood the reason why the Dyak had conducted them thither.
As the naturalist knew that this kind of bear was more rare than the other species—that is, in Borneo—he now more than ever felt chagrin at not having his gun with him. To attempt attacking the animal with his knife would have been absurd, as well as dangerous—for the Malayan bear can maintain a better fight than his Bornean brother.
But, indeed, even had Alexis desired it, there would have been no chance to reach the animal with his knife—unless the hunter should himself climb up the palm; and that was more than he either dared or could.
Of course the bear had long ere this perceived his enemy at the foot of the tree; and, uttering a series of low querulous cries, had desisted from his cabbage eating, and placed himself in an attitude of defence. It was evident from the position he had assumed, that he had no design of coming down, so long as the hunter remained at the bottom of the tree; nor did the latter desire him to do so. On the contrary, he struck the tree with a stick, and made several other demonstrations, with the design to hinder the bear from attempting a descent. But the animal did not even meditate such a thing. Though the palm was not one of the highest, it was tall enough to keep him out of the reach of any weapon the hunter could lay hands upon; and the bear, seemingly conscious of this fact, kept his perch with a confident air—that showed he had no intention of changing his secure position.
Alexis now began to reflect about what he should do. If he could make the others hear him, that would answer every purpose. Of course they would come up, bringing with them their guns. This was the most promising plan; and Alexis hastened to put it into execution, by hallooing at the top of his voice. But, after he had shouted for nearly ten minutes, and waited for ten more, no response was given; nor did any one make an appearance upon the ground.
Once more Alexis raised his voice, and shouted till the woods rang with echoes. But these echoes were all the reply he could get to his calls.
It was evident he had unconsciously strayed far from the camp, and quite out of earshot of his companions!
What was to be done? If he should go back to the others, to bring them and also his gun, the bear would in all probability seize the opportunity to descend from the tree and take himself off. In that case he would most certainly escape: since there would be no chance of tracking him through such a wood. On the other hand, Alexis need not remain where he was. He might stay there till doomsday, before Bruin would condescend to come down; and even should he do so, what chance would there be of effecting his capture?
While reflecting thus, a happy idea occurred to the young hunter; and he was seen all at once to step a pace or two back, and place himself behind the broad leaves of a wild pisang, where he was hidden from the eyes of the bear.
As the morning was a little raw he had his cloak around him; and this he instantly stripped off. He had already in his hands the stout long stick—with which he had been hammering upon the palm—and this he now sharpened at one end with his knife. On the other end he placed his cap, and beneath it his cloak, folding the latter around the stick, and tying it on in such a fashion as to make of it a rude representation of the human form.
When he had got the “dummy” rigged out to his satisfaction, he reached cautiously forward—still keeping the fronds of the pisang between himself and the bear. In this position, he held the “scarecrow” out at the full length of his arm; and, giving the stick a punch, set it erect in the ground. The bruang, from his elevated perch on the tree, could not fail to see the object—though the hunter himself was still concealed by the huge leaves that drooped over his head. Alexis, now cautiously, and without making the slightest noise, stole away from the spot. When he believed himself well out of hearing of the bear, he quickened his pace, and retraced his steps to the camp.
It was but the work of a minute for all hands to arm themselves and set out; and in ten minutes’ time they arrived at the bottom of the arenga, and had the gratification of finding that the ruse of Alexis had proved successful.
The bruang was still crouching upon the crown of the palm; but he did not stay there much longer, for a volley fired at his white breast toppled him over from his perch; and he fell to the bottom of the tree as dead as a stone.
The Dyak was rather chagrined that he had not himself discovered the game; but, on ascertaining that he would receive the promised bounty all the same, he soon got the better of his regrets.
Our hunters being on the ground, were determined to make a day of it; and after breakfast continued their hunt—which resulted in their finding and killing, not only another bruang, but a rimau dahan, or “clouded tiger” (felis macrocelus): the most beautiful of all feline animals, and whose skin they intended should be one of the trophies to be mounted in the museum of the palace Grodonoff.
This hunt ended their adventures in the Oriental Archipelago; and from Sambos they proceeded direct through the straits of Malacca, and up the Bay of Bengal to the great city of Calcutta.