New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1900-01-14

bow his head he and all his people shall be
pardoned If he be obstinate, we will smite the
village, and bid him make ready his breast
against our attack. Go speedily. and bid him
send me an answer in no longer time than it
takes to chew a Quid Of betel nut"
Jeayang steps out of cover and strolls toward
the village. The people are all afOOt now, max
ing their way down to the stream for the morn
ing abIutlOns, which they never omit, and a
cluster Of eldeEs sWaddled in clothes against the
cold meets the scout at the gateway of the
stOckade. The white men squat on the ground
smoking placIdly, awaiting the return of their
Presently the ugly face of Jelavang peeps
through the brushwOOd. He squats deliberately
before the White man. and asqueStiOn is needed
before he can be induced to speak. The calm
ness of Malays on such occasions is always irri-
tating in its completeness.
What does he say" queries the white man
He says T1an, that he is afraid replies the
scout The frank manner in which the Malays
lay claim to total absence of courage without
extenuation or apology is often bewiIdering
Does he say nothing more?'
No. Tuan. nothing more only that he is
afraid that perchance the white folk will trap
him. Therefore being afraid. he will have no
dealings with white people
The white man leaps to his feet. He won't
come in, he cries almost eXultingly. Il have
done all | can. and now the show is in your
hands Kill and spare nOtr
Sharp words of command ring out The gun
is run into position nose forward and a shell
sings loudly on it's way to the stockade 1t
bursts in the roof of house, and yell Of def
ance comes back in a thready cheer from the
Malays in the village mingled with the cries
of women and little children. From twenty
points in the line of the stockade little puffs OF
smoke leap out fercely and the bullets sing
and whistle overhead Some peck up the ground
IN front; others make splashes in the rice
swamps a couple of hundred yards to the rear
A rocket tube is run out, and the dart from the
fiery blOWplpe' PUSHES forward kissing and
screaming like flying dragon of ancient story
a house bursts into flames. The gun drops shell
after shell into the StoCkade, the bugIe sounds
the charge, and with a bass roar the Sikhs rush
out of cover and tear across the swampy open
which divides them from the village Some few
of bair har
founder along unchecked by the kneedeep mire;
the white men lead, pistol in hand roaring like
their men. 1t is a moment worth living for
me rapid run forward, the sweep down the hull.
through the swamps. up the grass to the stock
ade every stride taking them nearer to the
enemy.
AS the line approaches the fire of the Malays
slackens. "D-n il all, they're boiling al
ready? yells the political officer he founders
forward. The stOckade is reached, pulled apart
hacked down. passed over as though it did not
exist and the place is emptyi y few manged
bodies lie here and Incorporating grOtesqueIy
yet looking impossibly small; a house is blaz-
ing with a of scarlet flames and later
charred bones are found among the ashes: the
doors at the rear of the stoCkade are thrown
wide few stray shots sound from the heavy
Jungle behind the village showing that the
thanking parties are trying vainly to shoot down
for fowls and dogs. and the victory in a moment
is felt to be farcical absurd.
Presently the thanking parties come IN and
make their reports The jungle was too thick
for much good to be done; a few runawavs had
peen captured, some others have been shot. mi
the chief and most of his people have got away
unframed.
We've put the fear OF death into them saws
the political officer and that is about all and
his companions have nothing to add to this
curt statement Of fact.
The next few days are spent in burning miles
OF villages; In impOunding fOcks of cattle in
writing the anger of the Government plainly
on the place. that even an ilIterate peoDIa
may read II clearly. Meanwhile the ncIiticaI
agent and his scouts are busy-they in huntiue.
out the refugees and their families he in ac-
ceptng the submission of the minor chiefs fix
ing fines, appointing headmen busiIy
building up anew all that he has been at such
pains to demOsh.
As he lies on his mat at the end OF a long day
smoking and thinking. he is weary unto death
could anything have been more inclorious? 90
ne asks the commander "a few moor becrarS
Killed, one or two with ugly wounds which win
make them go hating all their DAYS a few in
significant natives punished, and the real chi |
prlts suffered to escape with nothing worse than
a fright II seems to me that this thickst
humping business Is now going To begin In |
real earnest. They viii never stand M to ma
again in stockades and we shall have to do All !
our fighting in dense Jungle And N wifi alvavs
be miserable heartbreaking, squalid. inefective
A Few dead to bury, few wounded to patch an |
enemy that you can't see. that bolts before Won