Sandokan: The Pirates of Malaysia (The Sandokan Series Book 3)

by Emilio Salgari

  “Little brother!” exclaimed Yanez, approaching Sandokan who was calmly studying the gunboat. “Those scoundrels have smelled something; it looks as though they’re preparing for battle.”

  “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” replied the Tiger, “they’ll probably just follow us for a while.”

  “I don’t relish the idea of being followed by a gunboat.”

  “You’re not afraid, are you?”

  “No, little brother. But what if she follows us all the way to Sarawak?”

  “They won’t hold their fire that long. If they suspect something, they’ll attack and we’ll sink them.”

  “Best we keep our guard up, Sandokan. We both know James Brooke has an excellent fleet, and often has his ships fly foreign flags or change their appearance when hunting pirates.”

  “Yes, I know that old wolf’s tricks. To lure out pirates, he dismasts his own ship, the Royalist, then once his enemy is within range, he sprays them with volleys of grapeshot.”

  “His tactics work, that devil of a man has killed every pirate who used to ply the waters off the coast of Sarawak.”

  “Yes, the Royalist has purged half the coast of Borneo; she’s sunk enemy prahus, torched villages, and destroyed forts with her cannons. There’s no question the rajah is a brave, resourceful man, but he’s no match for the pirates of Mompracem. Our Tigers will give him the fight of his life.”

  “You intend to challenge him?”

  “Oh, yes. His days are numbered.”

  “Look, Sandokan. The gunboat’s requesting we show our flag.”

  “Well, we’ll happily oblige. Kai-Malù, show those curious wretches a British, Dutch or Portuguese flag.”

  Minutes later, a Portuguese flag fluttered from the prahu’s stern.

  Her curiosity satisfied, the gunboat immediately sailed off, but instead of returning to the Isle of Whale still visible on the horizon, she tacked and headed south. Sandokan and Yanez frowned.

  “Hmm!” said the Portuguese. “Something’s up.”

  “Yes, brother, my instincts exactly.”

  “She’s heading towards Sarawak, no question about it. As soon as she’s out of sight, she’ll change course, guaranteed.”

  “She has a clever crew. They immediately realized we were pirates.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing, for now. She’s moving faster than we are.”

  “Do you think she’ll be waiting for us in Sarawak?”

  “I’d wager on it.”

  “Her captain may alert Brooke’s fleet and lay a trap for us at the mouth of the river.”

  “We’ll fight.”

  “We only have eight cannons, Sandokan.”

  “Yes, but the Helgoland will have several more. We’ll amuse ourselves, my good friend, you’ll see.”

  For two days, the Pearl of Labuan advanced along the coast of Borneo, always keeping 30 miles from shore, but still within sight of Mount Patau, a lushly forested peak that towered 1880 feet above the sea.

  On the morning of the third day, she rounded Tanjung Sirik, a rocky promontory at the north end of the vast Bay of Sarawak.

  Fearing he would be forced to face James Brooke’s fleet at any moment, Sandokan raised the Dutch flag, ordered the cannons loaded and had two-thirds of the crew hide below deck. He pointed the ship’s bow towards Tanjung Datu, the westernmost point of the bay; the Helgoland, coming from India, would pass close to it. Towards noon, much to the general surprise, the Pearl of Labuan sighted the Dutch gunboat she had run across three days earlier near the Isle of Whale. Recognizing her instantly, Sandokan smashed his fist upon the bulwark.

  “That gunboat again!” he exclaimed with a frown.

  “She’s spying on us, Sandokan,” said Yanez.

  “Then we’ll sink her.”

  “We’ll do no such thing, Sandokan. Cannon blasts could attract Brooke’s fleet.”

  “Let them come; we’ll fight them as well if need be.”

  “We’ve got to be cautious, Sandokan.”

  “Fine, as you wish. We’ll be cautious, but mark my words, that gunboat will be waiting for us at the mouth of the Sarawak.”

  “Aren’t you the Tiger of Malaysia?”

  “Yes, but we have the Priestess of the Eastern Temple aboard. She could be struck by a cannonball.”

  “We’ll shield her with our chests.”

  The Dutch gunboat arrived to within two hundred meters of the Pearl of Labuan. They could make out the captain standing on deck, spyglass in hand, and around thirty crewmen armed with carbines, crowding about the bow. Several gunners stood by a large cannon on the stern. She sailed past the prahu, then tacked and pointed her bow south towards Sarawak. Three-quarters of an hour later, she had disappeared from view, her smoke barely visible on the horizon.

  “Damn!” exclaimed Sandokan. “If she gets within range of my ship again, I’ll sink her with a broadside.”

  “We’ll meet her again in Sarawak,” said Yanez.

  “If she—”

  A cry from above interrupted his words.

  “Steamer on the horizon!” shouted a pirate, sitting astraddle the large yardarm on the mainmast.

  “It could be a cruiser!” exclaimed Sandokan, his eyes brightening. “Where is she coming from?”

  “The north,” replied the topman.

  “Can you make her out?”

  “No, just her smoke and the tip of her masts.”

  “The Helgoland?!?” exclaimed Yanez.

  “Unlikely! She’d be coming from the west, not from the north.”

  “She could have made a stop in Labuan.”

  “Kammamuri!” shouted the Tiger.

  The Maratha, who had climbed up onto the stern railing, jumped down and rushed to the pirate.

  “Would you recognize the Helgoland?” asked the Tiger.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come!”

  The two men rushed towards the backstays, climbed up to the tip of the mainmast and fixed their eyes upon the emerald surface of the sea.

  Chapter 7

  The Helgoland

  A THREE-MASTED VESSEL had suddenly appeared on the horizon, where the sky met the sea, and though she was still far off, it was obvious she was a ship of enormous dimensions. A plume of black smoke billowed from her smokestack; her bulk, her masts and her lines left no doubt in anyone’s mind; she was a warship.

  “Do you see her, Kammamuri?” asked Sandokan, who was studying the oncoming vessel with the utmost attention, trying to make out the flag flying from the peak of her mainsail.

  “Yes,” replied the Maratha.

  “Do you recognize her?”

  “I think... yes... that’s the Helgoland!”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, sir. She has a straight bow, three identical masts, and twelve gun ports. That’s the same ship I saw in Calcutta, that’s the Helgoland!”

  A sinister light flashed in the Tiger of Malaysia’s eyes.

  “She’s large enough to keep us busy for a while!” exclaimed the pirate.

  He grabbed onto a shroud and slid to the deck below. The pirates took up their weapons and gathered about him, anxious for battle to begin.

  “Yanez!” shouted Sandokan.

  “Coming, little brother,” replied the Portuguese, rushing towards him from the stern.

  “Take six men down into the hold and smash in the prahu’s sides.”

  “What? Smash in the prahu’s sides? Are you mad?”

  “Far from it; just the first step of my plan. The crew aboard that ship will hear our cries for help and rush to assist us. You’ll pretend to be a Portuguese ambassador en route for Sarawak and we’ll be your escort.”

  “And then?”

  “Once we’re aboard, it won’t be difficult to take possession of her. Hurry, the Helgoland’s approaching.”

  “Little brother, you are truly a great man!” exclaimed the Portuguese.

  Yanez chose ten men and wen
t below. They walked past the vast stores of weapons, cannonballs, and barrels of powder, past the old cannons used as ballast. Each man grabbed an axe from the wall then took position: five to port, five to starboard, and awaited final instructions.

  “We’ve got to act quickly,” said the Portuguese. “Careful though, don’t make the holes too large; we’ve got to time this just right so we don’t sink before she reaches us.”

  The men began to hack at the ship’s sides; the beams were as solid as steel, but less than ten minutes later, water began to gush into the hold and rapidly spread towards the stern.

  The Portuguese and the ten pirates rushed back above deck.

  “We’re sinking,” said Yanez. “Hide your pistols and your krises. We’ll need them tomorrow.”

  “Kammamuri,” shouted Sandokan, “Bring your mistress above deck.”

  “Are we abandoning ship, Captain?” asked the Maratha.

  “Not just yet. But if we’re forced to, I’ll personally ensure the young woman is safe.”

  The Maratha rushed below deck, gathered his mistress in his strong arms, and carried her up to the bridge.

  The steamboat was still a good mile away, but if she kept advancing at fifteen knots, she would reach the prahu within minutes.

  The Tiger of Malaysia pointed a cannon in the air and fired. Carried by the wind, the sound of the explosion reached the vessel, and she immediately pointed her bow towards the Pearl of Labuan.

  “Help!” shouted the Tiger. “Help! We’re sinking!”

  “Help!!” shouted the pirates in unison, adding their cries to their captain’s.

  Listing to starboard, the prahu was slowly sinking, swaying like a drunken sailor. From below deck could be heard the dull roar of water gushing into her hold and the sound of powder barrels smashing against the cannons. The mainmast, sawed off at its base, tottered and fell into the sea, dragging the great sail and the shrouds along with it.

  “Throw the artillery overboard!” commanded Sandokan, attempting to buy them more time.

  The cannons were thrown into the water, followed by barrels of gunpowder, cannonballs, rigging and all the spare masts. Six men grabbed buckets and rushed into the hold to slow the rise of water.

  The Helgoland had come to a halt three hundred meters from them. Six longboats were immediately lowered into the water and set off at full speed towards the sinking prahu.

  “Help!” shouted Yanez, standing on the port bulwark, surrounded by his men. “Help!”

  “Hold on,” shouted a voice from the nearest launch.

  The rescue boats advanced furiously, oars slashing through the waters, and quickly drew up alongside the prahu. The officer in command of that small squadron, a good-hearted young Malay, leaped onto the deck which now rested just above the waterline. Spotting Ada, he courteously removed his hat.

  “Please hurry,” he said, “First the lady, then the others. Is there anything you wish to save?”

  “No, lieutenant,” said Yanez. “We’ve thrown everything overboard.”

  “Everyone into the boats!”

  Ada, Yanez, Sandokan and several Malays and Dyaks boarded the officer’s launch, while the rest of the crew quickly settled into the remaining boats.

  The small squadron quickly pulled away and headed towards the steamship, which was now advancing at reduced speed. The water had just reached the prahu’s bridge, and the Pearl of Labuan swayed from side to side, her unsteady foremast shaking dangerously.

  Suddenly, the ship rolled onto her starboard side, capsized and disappeared beneath the waves. A small whirlpool formed where she had been, drawing the launches back twenty meters.

  “The poor Pearl!” exclaimed Yanez, his heart filling with pain as a large wave swept off all that remained of her.

  “Where did you set sail from?” asked the officer, now that the small squadron was out of danger.

  “Varauni,” replied Yanez.

  “What happened?”

  “We struck a reef near the Isle of Whale.”

  “Who are those natives aboard your vessel?”

  “Dyaks and Malays. An honour guard assigned to me by the Sultan of Varauni.”

  “So you are...?”

  “Captain Yanez de Gomera y Marhanhao, Portuguese Ambassador to the Court of the Sultan of Varauni.”

  The officer removed his hat.

  “It was an honour to rescue you, sir,” he said, bowing.

  “The pleasure was mine, sir. You have my deepest gratitude,” said Yanez, bowing in reply. “Without your help, we all would have perished.”

  The launches had drawn up beside the ship. The ladder was lowered then the officer, Yanez, Ada, Sandokan and the others climbed up to the deck where the captain and crew anxiously awaited them.

  The officer introduced Yanez to the captain, a handsome man in his forties with a large moustache and a face deeply bronzed by the tropic sun.

  “A bit of good fortune, sir; we arrived just in time,” said the captain, vigorously shaking the hand the Portuguese had proffered.

  “Absolutely, my good Captain. My sister would surely have died.”

  “Your sister, Mr. Ambassador?” asked the captain, studying the young woman who had not yet uttered a word.

  “Yes, Captain, the poor woman is mad.”

  “Mad?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So young and beautiful!” exclaimed the captain, fixing a compassionate look upon the Priestess of the Eastern Temple. “She must be tired.”

  “Yes, I believe so, Captain.”

  “Mister Strafford, accompany the young lady below, and put her in our finest cabin.”

  “Thank you. That is most kind. It would be best if her servant went as well,” said Yanez. “Kammamuri, accompany Miss Ada.”

  The Maratha took the young woman by the hand and followed the officer to the stern.

  “You must be tired and hungry, sir,” said the captain, turning towards Yanez.

  “We haven’t slept for two long nights and it’s been two days since we last ate.”

  “Where were you headed?”

  “Sarawak. Captain, allow me to introduce you to the Sultan of Varauni’s brother, His Royal Highness Orang Kahaian,” said Yanez, presenting Sandokan.

  The captain enthusiastically shook the Tiger of Malaysia’s hand.

  “Great Heavens!” he exclaimed. “An ambassador and a prince aboard my ship? This is indeed a special event. Gentleman, my ship is at your disposal.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” replied Yanez. “Are you headed for Sarawak as well?”

  “Yes, sir, we’ll make the trip together.”

  “What a bit of luck!”

  “Are you going to meet with Rajah Brooke?”

  “Yes, Captain, I must sign an important treaty with him.”

  “Do you know the rajah?”

  “No, Captain.”

  “Then it’ll be my pleasure to introduce you. Mister Strafford, take the ambassador and his Highness below and serve them lunch.”

  “What about our men, Captain?” asked Yanez.

  “We have room for them in steerage; I hope that will be suitable.”

  “That’ll be fine, Captain. Much appreciated.”

  Yanez and Sandokan followed the officer below deck into a large cabin furnished with great elegance. Two large windows, framed by silk curtains, looked out onto the stern.

  “Mister Strafford,” said Yanez, “who are our neighbours?”

  “The captain is on your right and your sister is on your left.”

  “Excellent, we can tap on the walls for a little conversation.”

  “I’ll leave you now, Highness, Mr. Ambassdor. The steward will be here shortly with your lunch.”

  The officer bowed and left.

  “Well, little brother, what do you think?” asked Yanez once they were alone.

  “Everything is going according to plan,” replied Sandokan. “Those poor devils have mistaken us for true gentlemen.”

&
nbsp; “What do you think of the ship?”

  “She’s a first class vessel; she’ll cut a fine figure in Sarawak.”

  “Did you count the number of men aboard?”

  “I’d say about forty or so.”

  “Good Lord!” exclaimed the Portuguese, grimacing.

  “You’re not afraid of forty men, are you?”

  “It’s somewhat more than I expected.”

  “Bah, half our number, and I’d wager we’re the better warriors, Yanez.”

  “Yes, but their cannons could tilt the battle in their favour.”

  “I’ve ordered Hirundo to scout the ship and take note of her weaponry. He’s a clever young man; he’ll bring us all the information we need.”

  “When are we going to strike?”

  “Tonight. We should reach the mouth of the Sarawak River by noon tomorrow.”

  “Shh, here comes our lunch.”

  A young man, assisted by two cabin boys, brought in a magnificent meal, two medium-rare steaks, a large pudding, a bottle of gin and a couple of bottles of French wine. Famished, the two pirates sat down at the table and almost attacked the food before them. They had each just taken a slice of pudding, when they heard a faint step and a soft hiss outside their cabin door.

  “Come in, Hirundo,” said Sandokan.

  A handsome, well-built young man, with lively features and bronze skin entered the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Sit down and tell us all you’ve learned,” said Yanez. “Have our men been given space in steerage?”

  “Yes,” replied the young Dyak.

  “What are they doing?”

  “Checking their weapons.”

  “How many cannons are there in the battery?” asked Sandokan.

  “Twelve, Tiger.”

  “This ship is better armed than I expected. James Brooke will have his work cut out for him if he attempts to board us; we’ll sink the Royalist with a broadside. Now listen, Hirundo, I have a plan.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Return to steerage and tell the men to rest. Once the moon sets, go disable the cannons in the battery then have everyone storm onto the deck shouting, Fire! Fire! The crew, the officers and the captain will rush out of their quarters. Only attack if they refuse to surrender. Understood?”