Stories from Deli

When the young man arrived in Deli, the first thing he noticed was that the living nature with its plants and animals there was so completely different from the old, familiar variations in the motherland. He saw himself moved into a whole new world. When he left he had not realized that he had now also said goodbye to the beeches and oaks, the limes and the willows, and all the familiar flowers and plants with which he had been so familiar through his training. Nor had it dawned on the totem that from his circle of vision would also disappear the cattle of the native pastures, the well-known birds, and the other animals that naturally belonged to his life there. 

On Sumatra’s east coast, nature suddenly appeared, as it were, in forms he had never imagined. Outside as he was, it bothered him from the beginning that he did not know the names of the trees and plants around him, and he was strangely and uncomfortable with objects with which he had been so familiar in the motherland. Here and there he saw an old acquaintance from the plant world, but in such gigantic forms that they were also strange to him, such as Herb-stir-me-not bushes of meters high, Ficus as trees and Bougainville’s with wrist-thick tendrils. 

The animal world was no different. The dogs had unprecedented guises, created by the most fantastic crossings. The cats all had a kink in their tail and the cattle had heavy fat bumps on their backs and huge horns on their heads. All these animals had only the name in common with their kind in the mother country, but in the course of time he became familiar with these apparitions, and when he returned to Hol after a decade, he had to get used to the more normal forms of these animals again. But that nature, alien to him, was also populated by everything belonging to the tropical forest; the monkeys, the wild boars, the snakes, the crocodiles and the tigers, not to mention the countless species of crickets, beetles, butterflies, scorpions and other creatures. 

He left the monkeys leaping through the trees in large groups. The animals could often sit quietly in the trees of the young forest bordering a plantation as wise, old lads, and then looked down from their high seat, seemingly interested in the hard-working people below. Startled by some cause, after a while they scattered again, leaping from tree to tree and from branch to branch with outstretched arms and legs, one of which thumped every now and then when it landed on a twig that was too thin. Violent screams often arose from such a group and this showed that quarrels and differences of opinion are also not unknown in the monkey world. 

It was a different case with the feral pigs. While this beast did not usually cause damage to the plantation, he often hunted it to bring a welcome change to the perennial menu of chicken, which invariably came to his table; for the tobacco company where he was posted was too far from the capital to get fresh meat. At night those animals scurried around the lonely assistant house and the coolie sheds, in search of thrown food, and on the few days off he could afford, he would often shoot such a wild boar, however difficult it was to put a deadly shot on them, as they flew away at incredible speed, as soon as they suspected danger. 

Snakes of countless varieties were a daily occurrence. Especially between the rows of planted tobacco they lurked for toads and other small animals, but when people approached they usually slipped away quickly. Except for the cobras, who attacked bravely, with a wide puffy head, half upright. At first the young man recoiled in alarm when such a poisonous rascal stood in his way, but he soon learned how to defuse them with a well-aimed whack of the thick rattan stick before the poisonous snake’s head shot forward with lightning speed. However, that was not possible with the boa constrictors, the many meters long pythons; fortunately, they often slept with sometimes a young pig in their stomach, so that a noose could easily be slipped around their necks to make them harmless. That, too, was a useful work, for more than once such a boy had penetrated his henhouse and gulped down some of that vital food he could have lived on for weeks. No more than killing pigs and snakes, he viewed the crocodile hunt as a murderous business. Together with a friend from “the city,” who was very fond of such trips, they would then descend in a shaky sampan with a Malay as driver down the river of this coastal enterprise. They were then on the makeshift ice box, in which the necessary food and drink were kept cool and lurked as they sailed by in the dense mangrove forests, which enclosed the banks like an impenetrable wall. The caimans then sunk in some open places and the thunderous shots they fired at those monsters sent numerous others into the water, where they floated again after a while, to again take the broadside out of the Winchester carbines. get their lumpy skin. 

The Malay fishermen, who lived in stilt houses on the coast, strongly encouraged this clean-up, because these predators did not hesitate to attack and drag the people away. And tigers? As a young assistant he had once almost walked on top of the king of the primeval forest. The clerk ordered him to stake out the fields along the planting road, which was to be put into use that year. He had gone out with three Javanese; two of them dragged the measuring chain along, and the third, every forty yards, drove a numbered post into the side of the road, which was covered with tall lalang reed grass. They made regular progress and monotonous was the calling of the numbers of the future tobacco fields when measuring. They were nearing the end, and the post-bearer shouted the field number ‘delapanpoeloe ampat’, eighty-four, leaning over the high lalang to hammer the number into the ground on the side of the road, then, not even a meter further a king tiger rose to its feet…

The animal stood for a moment bewildered, awakened from a deep sleep, then made a tremendous leap over the dry ditch by the road and disappeared into the undergrowth. The young man and his three helpers were no less shocked and set out to walk the other way, towards the yard, where they arrived exhausted for nearly half an hour. Even before the clerk could ask him the reason for his excited arrival, the assistant called to him that there was a tiger at the end of that planting road, and … The tuan besar interrupted him severely and inquired what he had done with that tiger. had. Well, nothing done, that beast has entered the undergrowth and fortunately we have been able to flee… ‘II8’ Would you like to make sure that the meter is brought to an end? ‘ once more cursed, they left again to measure from field eighty-four with fear and trembling. That was in time when he did not yet know how to ‘serve’ in tobacco! In later years he could have caught a tiger in a stuffed trap and several times in a trap, but he still could not boast of having shot the king of the primeval forest. Only many years later, when he himself was tuan besar, did he get his chance. 

While he was quietly working in his office one morning, a horrified Klingalese herdsman came over, and without concern for the usual displays of respect, immediately burst forth: Tuan besar! rimau ada, bokit pandjang! and in the same breath, the man related how he tended the young cattle on the hill called Boekit pandjang, and how the herd had suddenly been jumped by a tiger, who had struck down a small calf and dragged it away into the young forest. In a minimum of time the buggy was harnessed with the slender Australian in front of it, grabbed a well-loaded Winchester carbine, and they dashed off, holding the excited horse with difficulty, and the Klingalean and horse raging together on the narrow rear step. 

On the way he thought that it was really irresponsible to face a king tiger in broad daylight, and whether it was better to wait for the animal to eat half of its victim, after which it would surely retreat to the night. to consume the remains further. At the time, they could build a safe base in a nearby tree and wait for the tiger to return. Then a few assistants could also be present on I19 to fire multiple shots. But he was on his way and when he arrived he would see what there was to do. At a drying barn under construction he requested six good Javanese, who with their long machetes might be of service, and so the small group gathered at the place where the cattle had grazed. The trail in the high lalang, along which the predator had dragged its victim, was clearly visible, leading to light undergrowth. If they followed that trail, it could not help but hit him. Leaning forward cautiously, avoiding any noise, they crept across the flattened lalang, where blood stains were still visible here and there. All were restless and their hearts were pounding, but the Javanese trusted in the tuan besar, who had a good gun. 

So they came into the young forest, where numerous broken young twigs from the undergrowth showed their way. He was already looking for a suitable tree in which a shooting area could be built, because what they were doing now was actually great. Wouldn’t it be better to make a loud noise together now, so that the tiger would flee, the cadaver ah that he would visit again by evening? Leaving, but in the midst of his deliberations he heard, whispering an urgent: tuan besar! disana! from the Javanese, who was walking behind him and gazing in the indicated direction, he saw in a clearing the tiger lying flat on his stomach, tearing off the pieces of meat from the calf. All squatted inaudibly, and only the haunted breaths were discernible in the dead-still forest. He saw that it was a young tiger, who was there with his head towards him, feasting on his prey and apparently did not detect any danger yet. He had a good view of it through the branches of some bushes, and without further consideration he brought his rifle to the ready: what a fool, he had always had a sure shot, and now he had a chance at a tiger, a chance that might never come back. And yet… he took a long shot… his hand trembled… he saw the sight of his carbine indistinctly…, then the shot thundered, echoing loudly through the forest. As if in a blur, he saw the young animal leaping, firmly on its powerful legs. The tail swept along the flanks of the lithe body and the mouth flared wide open, giving off the vile guttural sound that makes people and animals shiver in the wilderness… It was clear… the shot had been wrong! Without it being a deliberate act, he had pushed a new cartridge into the barrel with a quick movement, and also involuntarily, he had risen from his kneeling position. The tiger, startled by that sudden white appearance, crouched, hesitating between flights and attacks, but in those seconds the hunter had shouldered the rifle with a steady hand. No fluctuation was in sight anymore; he had concentrated all his will and all his energy on the necessity to put that animal down … then the shot thundered through the silent forest for the second time. “Dapat, tuan besar, dapat!”

The Javanese cheered, we have him! as they jumped up and wanted to go forward with their long machetes. But he signaled to them to wait a little longer, for though the tiger lay in convulsions and blood gushed from his mouth, you could never know what he was capable of. With the rifle ready for a final shot, he cautiously approached his prey and when the body stopped moving he raised the beautiful head and looked at the strong fangs. 

The bottom one, on the right, was missing and blood was gushing from the hole where that tusk had been. It was clear: he had shot badly after all, because the bullet had apparently just hit that fang and then skimmed inwards through the palate in the brain. A millimeter farther to the right had made the bullet fly out… Quickly a sturdy tree branch was cut down, the legs of the tiger tied together and then it went in procession to the buggy, on which the booty was loaded, despite the horse turning wild, that wanted to flee as soon as it caught the air of the tiger, so feared by all animals, in its nostrils. This method of rendering this predator harmless was, however, one of the great exceptions, but the ming Mabar in this field was still the exception of the chief assistant of the entrepreneur. Here a primeval forest king had already been sneaking around the company yard for some time and ventured at night to the coolie barracks and assistant houses. He was apparently not angry, for all that indicated his presence were the footprints in the muddy gutters around the buildings and the fiery eyes that occasionally glared at those who came to their homes after a visit to the club at night. drive back the plant paths. But the certainty of his presence at night, nevertheless gave a restless feeling and a solid trap was built with a bleating kid in it to tempt him to consider that creature an easy prey and thus allow himself to be caught. It was a waste of effort. It seemed as if this copy was already so familiar with the comings and goings of the people that he completely ‘got through’ them and did not let himself be fooled by a kid in a cage. 

Then on its visible trail through the lalang some solid catchers were so skillfully set up that any other tiger would have surely stepped into them and been immovably caught. But this si-rimau apparently walked quietly around it, and so he rose in the esteem of Malays, Javanese, and Chinese. These increasingly began to make the assumption, that in this tiger a human soul had been reincarnated, and many were already inclined to regard him as a kind of Bapa, father, who should be protected rather than destroyed. But the sober Europeans thought otherwise, for the Klingalese herdsmen could hardly be moved to go out with the herd of young stock for grazing. Often these animals had already become restless, and in evidence that that tiger was huddled in the neighborhood, but he had not yet jumped the herd to take his prey. This condition could not last, for the fear of being attacked also had a devastating effect on the work performance of the groups of workers who went to work in the fields every morning in the twilight and returned in the dark of the evening. Especially among the Javanese women the unrest took on dubious forms and the view: ini bapa rimau, mau kawin sama orang perampoean, this father-tiger wants to marry a human woman, gave rise to many hysterical scenes. 

Many a person secretly deposited a dog’s corpse or some other delicacy somewhere in the lalang in order to please bapa-rimau. This had to and would come to an end; it was inadmissible that the established work schedule should be adversely affected by such a foolish tiger, who cared nothing about traps and traps. But how? where all the usual means failed. They were desperate, even at the headquarters … Until one late afternoon a Klingalese herdsman appeared excitedly in front of the head assistant’s house and said with a jerk and jolt that, on returning his herd, he had found a piece of a wild pig corpse, apparently eaten by the tiger. Here was an opportunity, and in a moment the tuan besar was on his way with the Klingalees to examine the situation. He did not have to travel a long way for this, because after a few hundred meters, the Kling turned off into the lalang and they came to the place where the corpse lay. It was clear that this was the work of the long-sought. They could clearly see the trail along which the victim had been dragged, and it appeared that it ran over a six-foot wide drainage ditch, which tiger, judging by the footprints, had jumped over with the pig. 

So Bapa-rimau was a strong adult boy! The head assistant took a good look at the situation on the spot. There was not a tree near the corpse, in which a shooting range could be built to lay the animal from there this night. For it was certain that he would return in a few hours to resume his meal. Nothing but half-man-tall lalang surrounded this place, and it was completely out of the question to simply wait for the predator to return here. Doubtless he would immediately sense the presence of people and would not show himself, and if he did, there was still no effective shot to fire in the darkness, apart from the personal danger involved. But then what? Another clamp near this cadaver? The pair of clamps in stock were located elsewhere on the track and could not be moved in the short time remaining before it would be completely dark. And yet we must have him tonight, thought the tuan, and then it occurred to him:… poison! He was too honest a hunter at heart not to dismiss this solution at the first thought. You did not. A king tiger, the majesty of the jungle, was an adversary that you could not kill with poison: that was murder and not a hunt! To poison that beautiful creature was cowardly, a despicable act. And yet… nothing else was left; The unrest on the enterprise had already become too great, the presence of these animals had affected the regular course of the activities too much, and any measure to put an end to this was justified, however contrary to common hunting concepts. But, if it had to be done, then there was no time too far. The evening was falling quickly and all too soon it would be night time. 

The are dark and the predator could come back to eat his evening meal on this cadaver, so everything had to be done before then. It was fortunate that the tobacco company’s central hospital was located on this venture, and although it had been only a short drive, it was already quite dark when the chief assistant returned to the pig with a box full of strychnine. cadaver came back. The hospital’s physician had also hesitated far too long to give such a quantity of this extremely poisonous substance and wanted to know all sorts of details, but finally gave it up. As silently as possible, long cuts were now made in the skin of the carcass and the killing white powder sprinkled therein, avoiding any touch by human hands, so as not to arouse suspicion in the tiger. Nerves, ears, and eyes of the small group of men doing this operation were on edge, knowing that it is just the first hours of the night when the predators set out for their prey. But everything went without incident and they cautiously left this dangerous place, anxiously awaiting the result of their work. During the evening, reconsidering everything calmly, the chief assistant was not at peace with his act. It bothered him terribly that that king tiger might at this very moment eat himself to death on his rightfully obtained prey. 

Nature, or whatever you want to call it, had arranged it in such a way that tigers catch pigs and eat them, and what he had just done was assassination; it was cowardly and unmanly, despicable and reprehensible to any hunter and certainly to the majestic ruler in the jungle, the king tiger. But, for the umpteenth time, he soothed his rebellious unease with the consideration that, as the situation had become, that troublemaker had to be defused somehow, and tonight there was a chance and there was no other. solution. And yet, he hoped in his heart, that in the morning it would turn out that the tiger had smelled trouble and had not touched the deadly corpse again … He had ordered the Klingalese who had been there not to say a word about what they had done and not go to that place. He wanted to be the first in that place himself, hoping, that he could defuse the tiger with a fair shot. 

The early morning of the tropics barely shimmered in the night sky, when, as every morning, he organized the groups of workers, gave the necessary instructions to the construction javanese, arranged the transports for the construction timber, inspected the sick and some of them with guide notes to the central hospital and took care of the many other things that belong to the manager of a tobacco company. When it was all over, he ordered the three Klingalese herdsmen from the shed who had been through everything the night before, and after loading a heavy Winchester carbine, they set out. They crept very carefully into the lalang; two Klingaleese in front, then he with the carbine ready to fire and finally a man in the rear. The two fronts crawled on the ground like black snakes almost on their bellies, while the tuan, stooping as much as possible, followed at some distance. 

Thus they approached the place where they had left the pig carcass the night before. Under great tension they made only slow progress, listening to every sound, for it was by no means out of the question that the tiger was still in the vicinity. But the curious silence of the tropics was not broken by any particular sound. The reed grass stood around silently and only the grinding of the hard leaves as they passed was audible. The sun was already above the horizon and a gentle breeze made the long light waves, so that you could not tell whether an animal was moving through it. He thought of his thoughts the night before; to his regret that he had poisoned that corpse, and in a sudden impulse he whispered urgently: Tungu, dj angan madjoe, kembali, wait, do not go forward, return, for he feared the certainty that the tiger had eaten from the poisoned bait … But… it was too late! one of the men, who had crawled about 10 meters ahead of him, whispered clearly audibly: ‘Babi tida ada lagi,’ pig is no longer there, ‘rimau dapat’, tiger got it …

So anyway … Then fell already his objections are gone; now the utmost caution was required, and he walked quickly to where the corpse had been. They could see clearly from the flattened lalang that it had been towed away and he hesitated to follow this trail. It was possible anyway that the tiger had merely removed its prey and, sensing that there was a human scent on it, left it untouched. Then he might still be nearby and their position was not without danger. In the midst of the high lalang, a clean shot would be impossible, but since it had been shown in recent weeks that this predator was by no means aggressive, it should rather be assumed that it was no longer in the vicinity. The Klingalean, meanwhile, had crept through, and before he could call him back, so as not to search any further for this tiger, the man emerged from the lalang before him, panting: tuan, rimau ada disana, tidoer: lord, tiger is there, sleeping . 

Immediately his mood changed. That was an opportunity! If that tiger was sleeping ten yards away, then they would awaken him somehow. The predator would jump up and then an honor shot, standing freehand, could end it. His disaffected mood of the night before and so recently had disappeared and turned into a hunting joy. This was to be a fair hunt: with only three unarmed blades, he would face a tiger with his carbine in the lalang, and the odds were greatly in favor of the king of the jungle. It was strange to him; there he was now, with three strange guys in a tropical landscape just in front of a tiger, hit, a boy from the Frisian countryside, who by fate was in this situation – maybe the drama would soon take place … And of which he couldn’t imagine the consequences. And yet… ‘Mana? true? he heard himself say, and he was already crawling after the Klingalees. A few more meters… disana, there! said the man, pointing straight ahead. But he saw nothing. The sunlight through the lalang cast such light and dark shadows on the ground that a striped tiger’s body was completely camouflaged. “Saja tida fiat,” I can’t see anything, he muttered. ‘Disana, tuan besar, kapala rimau,’ there tiger’s head, the Klingalean panted along his outstretched arm, and then … yes, then the tuan besar saw it too: a mighty tiger’s head, seen from the front, was less than ten meters in front of him …

The eyes were still closed, there was still no movement in the mighty body stretched out behind that head; but that would soon change if the predator noticed their presence, and then what? ‘Pasang, toean besar’ shoot, insisted the man, stretched out next to him in the lalang, barely able to contain his excitement. Hid was puzzled that his lord had not long since brought the rifle to his shoulder to put an end to this predator forever; an opportunity like this to do so would never arise again. Indeed, it would have been a small trick to immediately put a deadly bullet through one of the animal’s eyes and then all the turmoil of these last weeks would have ended. But, no, he couldn’t do that. Thus no hunter killed the game that lay before him unaware of the danger. Fortunately he did not have to add an explanation, when he whispered to his black buddy: ‘rimau misti bangoen, lantas saja pasaug,’ tiger has to wake up, then I will shoot. 

But how could Zig awaken the animal in the best way? But before he resolved this new problem, the Klingalees had dug out a hard piece of mud, and before his lord could stop him, the man threw it with all his might in the direction of that cruel tiger head there in front of them. At the same moment he shouldered the carbine, because now it was going to happen … But … nothing happened i With a dull blow the projectile, well aimed at the tiger’s head, landed motionless … ‘Mati, suda mati betoel’ dead, already really dead, the Kling shouted, and so it was: there lay the king of the jungle, dead, felled by the strychnine, murdered in an unworthy way. 

The body was swollen like a balloon, so that the beautiful skin was stretched tight around it, and nothing remained of the beautiful suppleness of the tiger’s body. It had become a disgusting corpse. Unloading the carbine, the tuan thought for a moment of the severe pains the animal must have had before death occurred, but then he pushed aside all troublesome thoughts and gave orders to transport the animal, to skin it and to remove the skin. preparing. The death of ‘bapa spread like wildfire. rimau ‘about the company’s houses and coolie sheds. Its effect was very different; the reincarnation theorists in particular feared the consequences of this death. The fact that the predator had never done any harm to humans was strongly highlighted. 

Are wandering so close to people’s dwellings, instead of dwelling in the bush, where he belonged, was cited as proof that this tiger was something special, that one could not kill with impunity. Knowing from experience that in such a case miraculous properties are attributed to many parts of the tiger’s body, especially to the whiskers and genitals, the chief assistant had already on the spot, had those parts tied in a sturdy burlap bag, in order to prevent , that they would be cut off in transit to be used as amulets or obat. 

The fatal influence of this disturber of peace had to be over now. With great interest the carcass was transported to the felting place with legs tied together. The balloon-shaped swollen body in particular gave rise to the necessary comments. The destruction of the flesh and the inward parts required the greatest vigilance, for after all, everything that came from a tiger like this was of great value to the Asian population of the estate, who had many hidden powers. attributed to. The skin was then treated expertly and was to be presented to the chief administrator of the tobacco company over many spirits and noble drinks. However, this plan did not go ahead… already during the treatment of the skin all hair was released, so that nothing but a worthless, bare piece of leather remained of the beautiful skin of this King Tiger. 

The chemists and physicians claimed that the strychnine was the cause of this general hair loss, but the Malays and the Javanese, the Chinese and the Klingalese, knew better: the soul, who had resided in this bapa-rimau could not allow his remains to be soiled by the dirty shoes of the disbelieving blandas. Which indeed did not happen …