white companions and Dyak sailors, he gave battle first to the weaker
strongholds, gradually attaching the defeated to his standard. He found himself
at the end of nine years their master and a king in something more than name.
Combined with the qualities of a fearless fighter, he had the faculty of winning
the good will and admiration of his foes.
The fierce Suloos and Illanums became his fast friends. He left their chiefs in
power, but punished every outbreak with a merciless hand.
One of the many incidents of his checkered career shows that his spirit was all-
powerful among them. He had invited the Chinese from Amoy to take up their
residence at his capital, Kuching. They were traders and merchants, and soon
built up a commerce. They became so numerous in time that they believed they
could seize the government. The plot was successful, and during a night attack
they overcame the Rajah’s small guard, and he escaped to the river in his
pajamas without a single follower.
Sir Charles told me one day, as we conversed on the broad veranda of the
consulate, that that night was the darkest in all his great uncle’s stormy life. The
hopes and work of years were shattered at a single blow, and he was an outcast
with a price on his head.
The homeless king knelt in the bottom of the prau and prayed for strength, and
then took up the oars and pulled silently toward the ocean. Near morning he was
abreast of one of the largest Suloo forts—the home of his bitterest and bravest
foes.
He turned the head of his boat to the shore and landed unarmed and undressed
among the pirates. He surrendered his life, his throne, and his honor, into their
keeping.
They listened silently, and then their scarred old chief stepped forward and
placed a naked kris in the white man’s hand and kissed his feet.
Before the sun went down that day the White Rajah was on his throne again, and
ten thousand grim, fierce Suloos were hunting the Chinese like a pack of
bloodhounds.