~~~~~
The day after the visit to Pantai, an early morning meeting had been convened. A map had been scratched in the sand near the beach shelter. The men and a few of the women stood around it, talking.
Two large stones had been used to mark Likupang and Bahoi to the northwest. Between the two villages the low ridge of hills and higher ground had been roughly scratched in, and also the islands of mangroves in the bay were shown. Pantai had been marked with a cross.
“If Andhy and Harta are going then using a boat would be best,” said Praba. “As long as they can get through the channel – there are a lot of roots. They won’t expect anyone to come through the mangroves.”
“Why?” asked Sukma.
“Crocodiles and snakes,” Bandri replied with a bland tone as he tried to make it seem less frightening for the girls who were present. In a half-joking manner he added: “And evil spirits.”
“Why not use the path next to the mangroves – isn’t it the shortest?” Joyah asked, evidently hoping to find a safer route.
“There’s a good chance they keep a lookout along there – that why we put someone up on top of that hill,” explained Praba, pointing over the river.
“There’s a tall tree just here,” Harta said, pointing to the high ground on the map nearer to Bahoi. “You can see Bahoi well from there.”
Bandri knew his young brother well and guessed he might have tried doing that already.
“I hope you haven’t been that close before?!”
“It’s an old strangler fig.. You can climb up inside it – they can’t see you.. Don’t you think they get up on that hill overlooking our village – they could be up there now wondering where the big scary man is with long hair?”
“You have – haven’t you?!” declared Bandri, angry now because of his snide reference to Agung.
Harta gave him a shrug. In response Bandri lashed out, giving Harta a hard clout on the ear, telling him:
“Don’t talk about him like that!”
Harta reeled from the strike, as Praba asserted his seniority by giving Harta another quick stinging cuff on the ear that nearly knocked him off his feet.
“Harta – never do that! Not unless we agree first – do you understand?!”
“Alright!” Harta whined, holding his aching ear. “Alright – I’m sorry.”
“We do need a lookout on that hill,” said Bandri, making an effort to sound calm since he wished that hadn’t happened in front of the girls. At least he thought that it might make Harta more cautious spying on Bahoi today.
“If Hatty’s going then I could keep a lookout on the hill?” Sukma offered brightly.
“Oh Suk?” Ayu put her arm around her. “That’s a good offer, but we’re needed to look after the young children.” Ayu glanced back as she guided the girls away from the gathering, while the men looked at each other seriously.
“Sukma has to know exactly why the girls must stay in the village,” said Praba firmly.
Bandri lowered his head as he thought about dear Sukma, and wishing that the girls could have more freedom.
“The tide is rising so it’s a good time to try using a boat,” said Andhika, bringing the meeting back on track. “As long as we’re not too long we could get back while it’s still high water.”
“Andhy makes good sense,” concluded Rukma. “I can be lookout on the hill.”
Andhika sat in the bow of the smallest boat and Harta sat in the stern, his ear red and throbbing. Both carried bows with plenty of arrows and two stout spears since they would come in useful for punting the boat through the shallow waters of the mangrove swamps, and possibly warding off crocodiles. After Rukma had signalled the all clear from the hill, they slipped out from the river. Bandri and Praba ensured that the rest of the village stayed close together near the two strongest houses.
“Look out all the time for crocodiles,” Andhika briefed Harta as they paddled towards the mangrove swamps. He explained in detail the type of water they frequented, where they rested, how a crocodile stalked its prey and how, after grabbing its prey it will drag it under and roll its body viciously, and that he should only put his feet in shallow water where there was no wider channel. After he had given him the benefit of all this native knowledge he added:
“The water snakes are not dangerous, unless you cuddle them.”
Harta cogitated on all the information he had been given.
“Do crocodiles try and grab the outriggers?” he said, asking the question that always bothered him.
Andhika gave a little laugh, answering:
“As Agung would say – ‘Not usually’!”
“What if you get grabbed by a crocodile?” Harta asked as casually as he could manage.
Andhika turned to look at him, raised his eyebrows and blew out his cheeks in a scary gesture while jabbing his fingers in the air.
“Hold your breath.. And try poking its eyes – It might let go!”
Before they turned left into the narrow drainage channel between the mangrove on the mainland and the low-lying mangrove swamps in the bay, they prepared their poisoned arrows. Each had small pig-skin pouches containing the freshly prepared poisonous sticky syrup. The arrowheads were dipped and turned to get a good covering, and then the readied arrows were put in a couple of pouches hung inside the hull of the small boat.
“Andhy.. Where’s the best place to hit a crocodile?” enquired Harta, adding: “I mean with an arrow?”
Andhika didn’t turn round as he paddled.
“If it’s in the muddy water, it depends on what you can see – but I would try for the neck – the scales are thinner on the sides and bottom.”
Often progress through the channel was difficult since the outriggers snagged on the breathing roots near the surface. At times, they needed to get out of the boat and lift it over the congested areas, stumbling around in the slippery black muddy water, sometimes over their waists, as they felt for the tangled roots using their bare feet somewhere within the living, squelching ooze, enveloped by the leech infested swamp and haunted by the thoughts of evil spirits lurking in its depths. Smothered in the grey-black, stale-smelling mud they at least had some protection from the mist of midges and mosquitoes, and they better blended in with their surroundings. They became used to the putrid smell and the cacophony of sounds from frogs, birds and other wildlife, allowing themselves to become immersed and hidden within the swamp. They spoke only when they needed to, and then very quietly.
They came to a wider channel, and could see out into the bay again. Here they saw several grey-scaled and watchful salt water monsters resting on a bank, and at least one resting just under the water, although there could be more. Andhika reminded the youth:
“The crocodiles you can’t see are the most dangerous.”
This would be the half way point – beyond this they were transgressing into Bahoi territory. After paddling strongly over the channel, they again entered much shallower water, where Andhika told Harta to stop for a while so they could rest and talk quietly.
“From now on no talking unless it’s absolutely needed,” he explained. “We have to be careful not to suddenly come out of the channel where they could see us – so we take as much time as we need. Keep quiet and listen very carefully. Keep looking about you for any clues.”
Gulping down fresh water, they boosted their stamina with honeycomb and fruit.
Soon they had to give up trying to get the boat along the obstructed channel close to the Bahoi village. Andhika signalled to push the boat out of sight under some large aerial roots. Taking their bows and half of the arrows they continued on foot stealthily weaving through a congested tangle of roots and branches.
By late morning they arrived at the edge of the inlet. Smearing more mud on their faces and upper bodies they chose a screened place where they could look across to the Bahoi village on the other side of the inlet. They were now close enough to see the men, women and children, but not close enough to disting
uish facial features.
The village was about the same size as Likupang. In many ways the houses were similar, but two of the houses were taller with another level, and had steps leading to the top floor. They were mostly interested in the men they could see. How many were there? How old were they? What were they doing? But they also watched the boys, women and girls. They needed to watch for as long as they could since people could be in houses or out of sight for much of the time, making a mental note of all they could see.
Andhika needed to pull Harta back more than once from getting any closer. Finally, Andhika signalled that they should return since the tide was dropping now. By the time they broke back out onto the channel near Likupang the sun had dipped below the horizon and they were struggling along in the moonlight, to be met on the beach by a relieved Rukma, who had spent all day on the hill. The two mud-caked and tired spies rinsed themselves off in the night-time surf, and then joined the others at the fire by the beach shelter.
“One of them looked really strong – a big man with a beard!” Harta declared. “That’s their senior isn’t it?!” He paused briefly as the men quietly nodded. “I was looking for the tall one with the beard, but I didn’t see him. I counted four men and three boys, four women and two girls - and two babies.”
“I think there were three grown men, and two older boys,” Andhika said. “But we don’t know if they were all in the village – some could be out fishing or in the forest.”
“The older boys were about my age,” Harta went on.. “And the two girls looked about Sukma’s age – one was a bit older I think.. Another thing – there are two bigger houses with another floor on top.”
“For the seniors,” commented Rukma.
Bandri and the others had glimpsed these before from the bay, but still he pondered a little on this observation. What would it be like if Rukma and Praba had such houses to mark their status? The idea of Rukma behaving like that seemed unbelievable.
“How many boats could you see?” asked Praba.
“Two,” replied Harta immediately and Andhika nodded.
“That’s a worry – you would think they’d have more boats – maybe people were out fishing – and some could be in the forest,” said Praba factually. “The problem is they have more men and boys than us and not many women – so they could want girls.”
Bandri still felt there could be another way:
“If we know there are more of them than us, then perhaps the best thing is to try and talk to them -”
“Bandy – they killed our father!”
“Alright Harta - calm down,” intervened Rukma “We have to think carefully what the best thing is to do – we don’t want to fight between ourselves.”
Praba sighed again and sucked his lip, evidently in turmoil.
Bandri tried a different approach:
“If we get Agung back first, and also Eko and his family -”
“That’s going to make it worse!” cut in Harta again while Praba shook his head.
“Let him speak, Harta,” coaxed Andhika.
Bandri tried to explain his reasoning:
“We all want Agung back – we need him back – and I know he wants to be back here with his family.. But he can’t leave the family at Pantai – and I’m telling you they’re a good family – Eko and his son respect women.”
“They’re Java!” exploded Praba. Rukma put his hand out to try and calm him down, but Praba stood up and paced around by the fire. “We don’t know what they might do – they could bring in the Java tribesmen!”
“Brother, they were Javanese! – But now they want to be part of us here. You’re worried about having more young women here – and then the tribesmen from Bahoi will want them.”
“That’s true isn’t it?!” pronounced Praba, settling back down on his log.
“What is there to stop the Java tribesmen discovering the family at Pantai – with only Agung to defend them?.. Even he would not be able to stop three or four attacking that place – and he would not give up until they killed him.”
Bandri’s matter of fact statement impacted on the others, and sent a cold shiver even through his own body.
“We must get my son here as soon as possible,” Rukma said seriously, his sonorous voice lacking any of its usual humour. “With the family from Pantai, but the girls have to stay out of sight.” After a pause, he added: “That right - we should hide the girls until we have a better plan.”
“Alright, alright – I hear you,” conceded Praba. “But we don’t want Bahoi to find out.”
“If the family join us we have to think about the best way to do it? Bringing them by boat is best – more so if the father can’t move.” Andhika said looking around at the strained faces. “We must talk it through with our wives to see what they think – this is not something we should do without everybody agreeing.”
“So that is it then!” Rukma concluded. “We talk it over with our wives and meet again first thing in the morning – and then decide.” As he spoke, the most senior tribesman looked directly at Praba, who finally nodded his head in acceptance.
As Rukma walked back with Bandri to their houses after the meeting, he put his large hand on the younger man’s shoulder:
“Once they have talked it over I think everyone will see sense.”
“Your family miss Agung don’t they?” said Bandri, remembering how badly affected the girls had been. “I didn’t guess that Mel would react like that - she misses him too.”
Rukma and Bandri raised their eyebrows in mutual understanding.
“I did mean what I said about the girls staying out of sight,” said Rukma seriously. “They’ll need to stay in a house until we think of something.”
Bandri and Ayu sat in front of their porch, enjoying the gorgeous full moon as it climbed into the sky. There was silence between them as both gazed upwards at this extraordinarily proud moon that appeared to extinguish the stars all around, bathing everything in luminescence. A high vapour-thin cloud slipped slowly across, creating a moon halo of watery-blue before dissolving into nothingness.
The moonlight glimmered off the calm waters of the bay, and highlighted the features of the surrounding land. Along the sandy beach, Bandri could see egg-laden sea turtles hauling their hulking heavy bodies ashore to laboriously dig incubating pits for their precious offspring.
The crickets shimmered and all of creation seemed at peace, yet Bandri knew that he and the other men still had to be on their guard. If another tribe did want to attack, it would be a suitable night for it. He wished and prayed for a time that he could truly relax and enjoy such a special evening.
Ayu was thinking about her brother.
“I wonder how he’s getting on?”
“He’ll manage alright.”
“It’s amazing that we didn’t know about that family,” she mused. “All that time they were just up the coast.”
“Until Agung found them.”
Ayu laughed.
“So it needed my brother to wash his feet for us to find out?!”
“We knew there was somebody there – but it was well hidden.”
“Well - you should be more curious!” she chided.
He chuckled and looked at Ayu as she gazed upwards at the fatherly face of the marbled moon, following her eyes to study again the pitted circles, lines and shapes so clearly visible tonight. On one edge of the glowing circle he could see little projections and what seemed like shadows – the edge that would be away from where the day’s sun would rise. Each time he had seen the waxing moon over the previous nights, he had looked in particular at the imperfect edge of the curved shadow that appeared to cross over the circle - but now he was certain that it was not just a circle but a ball. It had to be a ball - a very big ball with mountains, maybe like Tongkoko and Klabat.
Now he thought of this giant rocky ball being lit by the Sun Mother somewhere far away on the other side of what must be the enormity of Mother Earth. He conceived of the Fa
ther Moon circling Mother Earth and wondered why the same familiar face of the moon always beamed towards them, starting then to imagine what might be on the far side.
“The moon is a ball – isn’t it?” he mused after many moments.
This calm observation made Ayu blink as she looked up again.
“Is it?”
“I think so.”
He told her why he thought so.
“How does the moon stay up there?.. The mountains must be very heavy.”
“I don’t know.”
“So what is the sun?” she asked directly.
“A big ball of fire or something,” he speculated, raising his eyebrows. “Something incredible,” he added reverently.
His wife turned her head to stare wide-eyed at him, and to see that he had returned to gazing upwards.
“She lights up the moon.”
“So her light is looking down on us now,” she added.
He chuckled.
“On Tongkoko you can see further - the sea and the land bend away,” he explained. “We’re on a big ball too. The sun must go around the other side at night – she lights up the other side when we can’t see her, and then comes up again in the morning.”
Ayu blinked several times in contemplation, and turned again to study his moonlit face. He was still concentrating on the glowing, pearl-white spectacle above, puzzling as to why the features on the moon never seemed to change or move round.
“Why doesn’t the fire burn out?” she asked.
“I don’t know.. Maybe it will one day?”
“No it won’t,” she insisted, cuddling onto his arm. “It never will – she will never die.”
He turned his face to smile at her. In silence, their eyes held each others in understanding for a few moments, before they both gazed upwards again. A little later still, she turned to kiss him on the cheek.
“So the moon must go around too,” she said blithely. “Maybe there are people on the moon - looking down at us?.. They could be saying ‘How does that stay down there?’”
The Tropical Sun - Belief, Love and Hate Page 20
