Indonesian Gold (88 page)

Read Indonesian Gold Online

Authors: Kerry B. Collison

Tags: #Fiction

When word of Jonathan Dau's death swept through the
provinces with the speed of a raging forest fire,
Aoheng
and related
Penehing
communities along the greater Upper Mahakam River Dayaks were immediately galvanized into action.
From Longbangun to Bukit Batubrok, and across to Nahabuan, Dayak men prepared longboats and
gathered their guns and spears, while women, who expected the ceremony would bring them into
contact with relatives from Lasan and Batukelau, packed additional food and prepared cloth for
the farewell rituals. Then, as the news continued to spread to cities as far south as
Palangkaraya and west to Pontianak, priests, chiefs, village councilmen and Longhouse
foot-soldiers laid out their finest apparel, in readiness for the long journey to honor a most
important man. There would be none who would not go to pay their respects to the
Penehing
leader, Jonathan Dau. This would be a farewell, fit for a Dayak King.

****

Groomed by her father in Penehing customs and traditions
as his heir and successor, it was only natural that Angela assume the role of chief priestess and
officiate at Jonathan Dau's funeral. Angela believed unquestioningly, as had her
nenek-moyang,
her forefathers, that death signified the passing of one's soul to the
spirit world. And, in a moment of quiet deliberation decided that it would be fitting for the
funeral arrangements to be extended, to include all
Penehing
who had perished as a result
of the attack on her Longhouse village. The announcement was greeted with great enthusiasm and
approval, Angela's first act as shaman comforting those whom she would one day lead. That the
lives of those lost would be celebrated together with their chief's passing, comforted young and
old, and in their minds they visualized a great gathering of spirits to accompany their loved
ones through this all-important passage.

But, first, the dead had to be purified before they could
enter their other world, their spirits freed of ghosts or other unwanted spirits and liberated
from all earthly desires. While a number of village women assisted Angela prepare Jonathan's body
throughout the night, others collected remains gathered from the Longhouse ashes and placed these
together, in a communal lot. Then, as the day following Jonathan's death came to a close,
madu
pete,
the first stage of the ritual was undertaken.

Angela led the bathing ceremony to cleanse the spirits of
the deceased in readiness for the ‘final feast', when the spirits would be ‘taken to dinner', the
rite signifying a last farewell, simultaneously alleviating grief, and sorrow, amongst those left
behind. Cleansed, the body was then treated with perfumes and the Dayak equivalent of
formaldehyde, before being dressed, Angela arranging for men who had been charged with the
responsibility of building a rattan, throne-like structure, to place the chief in regal pose.
Jonathan Dau would remain sitting in this posture, treated by all as if still alive. Once the
initial rites were completed, he would be carried to a thatched-roofed, timber hut constructed by
the village men, the walls carved with pictures of tigers, dogs and dragons. There, he would
remain, until the arrival of the new moon.

Traditionally, discourse regarding what belongings should
accompany the deceased would have occurred. However, as all of Jonathan's material possessions
had been destroyed in the great fire, Angela selected items from the list Campbell had filled,
and placed these around her father's corpse in accordance with
Kaharingan
beliefs.

The setting was ready and already many guests had arrived,
the second stage of the ceremony,
makan berawaq,
‘giving the dead their dinner',
commenced. Custom dictated that only close family participate in this rite, and Angela invited
her cousins to join with her in eating from the specially prepared tray covered with
tedung
hiting
leaves, which had been placed beside the chief's head. Campbell had returned from the
mining camp and spent the entire day – and had still not eaten, the memory of when he last ate at
such a gathering still fresh in his mind, and he graciously retreated, electing to view the
ceremony from afar – unprepared in every way for what was taking place.

Outside the grotto, and stretching along the river as far
as he could see, bamboo, kerosene-fuelled flames flickered, providing light to the thousands that
had already arrived to pay their respects. To Campbell, who had envisaged a ceremony filled with
mourners in solemn role, the carnival atmosphere more resembled a festival than a funeral, for
everywhere he looked food was being prepared in a mood that was far from somber. Plaited,
purun
mats covered with colorful fruit dotted the landscape, the air ripe with the pungent
smell of
durian,
fried
tofu, tempeh
and
ubi kayu,
and freshly slaughtered
pigs, goats, chickens and even monkeys were carefully skewered then placed over patiently fanned,
deep charcoal fires. Fierce-faced Dayak elders, their heads adorned with precious and colorful
feathers, mingled with their peers from neighboring tribes, the greater their import, the more
pronounced their strut, Campbell engrossed in the ongoing spectacle. The hours passed, during
which he avoided contact with Angela as she continued with her duties, the number of new arrivals
already exceeding several thousand. Then, as if by telepathic command, the mass of visitors fell
silent, the air electric with anticipation as the visitors became deathly quiet.

Campbell
did not recognize
Udir in his traditional costume, a chameleon, his body covered from shoulder to toe with
feathers

– his head, decorated with plumes. Jonathan's dearest
friend had assumed the role of a family member, his function, to awaken the dead by calling out
during the night. Udir took center stage and filled his lungs, the shrill piercing call he let
forth sending shivers the length of Campbell's spine. He would discover that this ritual
procedure would continue, four times each night, until the chief's body was transported to its
final resting place.

Morning found Campbell asleep at the river's edge. Angela
appeared, holding a cup of steaming coffee at his side.
‘You don't have to remain here all the
time, Stewart,'
she smiled, her face a radiant glow.
‘It's is considered acceptable to
come and go, and you have other responsibilities – as do I.'

‘Did you get any rest?'
he asked
.
‘
I'm not
tired
.
'
‘
None at
all?
'
‘
My time to rest will
come later in the day.
'
‘Is
there anything else that you need?
'

Angela smiled, and ran her hand across the stubble on his
face.

‘You've done so much already.'

‘I wish I could do more.'
Campbell
sipped the coffee.
‘You must be very proud that
your father has so many friends.'
While he slept, more than fifty more longboats had arrived,
the river now incredibly congested with traffic.

‘They will continue to come until the final
day.'

Campbell
climbed to his feet
and stretched.
‘Be careful, or this island will sink under their weight.'

Angela surveyed the scene before them. There were more
than three thousand now in attendance.
‘They respected my father. He was a good man.'
She
reached out and touched his cheek again.
‘Even though you mightn't agree.'

Campbell
was immediately
defensive.
‘This past week has been a confusing time. And, you would have to agree that I
haven't exactly seen the Penehing people in the best light.'

‘
I overheard my father's words to you, Stewart. What
will you do?
'

He had already given considerable thought to the
impossible commitment made to Jonathan on his deathbed. He was not so naïve as to expect he could
successfully persuade Baron Mining to abandon Longdamai, and hoped that Angela would understand.
‘I would be willing to try and move mountains for you, Angela, and I think you know that to be
true. But, we have to be realistic. There is no way that a multinational mining company is just
going to pack up and leave billions of dollars in gold behind.'

‘Then why did you give a dying man your
word?'
Angela had now stepped away and crossed her arms, her
stance more defiant than he had ever seen.

‘
Because, your father was dying, 'Gela, and he
deliberately put me on the spot
.'

‘
Please don't call me ‘Gela.
'

‘
Okay, Angela, what if I just resign and
leave?
'

‘Then who will stop them?'

Campbell
didn't wish to argue
further. It seemed that she had inherited her father's obstinate genes.
‘Okay, Angela, I know
this is a bad time. How about I come back and visit again, in a few days?'

‘Yes,'
she agreed,
‘that will be fine. Ask Udir to arrange to have someone take you back.'

There was something else he had omitted telling Angela
and, although this was not the most appropriate moment he could have chosen, nevertheless,
Campbell felt that he had to be forthcoming with respect to what was happening at the mining
site.
‘They're going to recommence drilling, very soon.'

‘
It doesn't come as any surprise.
'

‘
Fine, Angela, just so you know and don't lay the blame
on me
.'

****

Longdamai Sial Mining Operations

Campbell
returned to the
mining camp in time to observe the first of a series of new holes being commenced to verify
earlier results. The replacement crew had settled in quickly, the old, having been paid out in
full, were already history. Madurese laborers had received their outstanding wages and there was
an air of normalcy surrounding the camp. The new drillers, working through ten-hour shifts,
produced results at twice the speed of their predecessors.

From the outset, it had been established that the
procedures for extracting and recovering samples for testing would, in every way, be identical to
the methodology used under Sharon Ducay's supervision. However, in order to maintain the
integrity of the results and place these beyond question, previous labs were not engaged –
instead, Baron commissioned a Singapore-based analytical laboratory to conduct the fire assays.
As earlier drill results indicated that the deposit lay between thirty-two and thirty-eight
meters, samples were taken every one meter, and transported out by helicopter immediately to
Samarinda, then onto the Singapore laboratory via the direct charter service. Wishing to maintain
their newly established relationship with the multinational miner, the Singapore technicians
worked to turn the results around, as requested by Baron Mining, within forty-eight hours. From
the time the first hole had been drilled to the hour results were relayed to Toronto, the process
had required only six days.

On the ninth day, when the results indicated beyond doubt
that there was no evidence of any substantial gold showings present in the samples, the Baron
Mining board collapsed in a collective, apoplectic fit. Within hours Phil Samuels was already
winging his way to Singapore, where he would speak directly with the laboratory's management to
establish whether it might have been possible that they might have erred. The Canadian, company
director remained in the City of Lions for a further forty-eight hours until subsequent samples
had also been assayed. Then he contacted the Baron Mining chairman and broke the bad news. As
executives moved to damage control, family and close friends of the laboratory technicians
commenced short-selling the conglomerate's stock. It would require another month's drilling
before they could be certain but, by then, tens of thousands around the world would already know
that they had been duped.

It was all over.

During that week Campbell attended the ongoing burial
ceremonies as frequently as he could, traveling to and fro by longboat as the helicopter proved
to be disruptive. Then, on the day before the new moon appeared and Stewart Campbell learned of
the contradictory drilling results, he was confident that Jonathan Dau would have his
wish.

****

The Philippines

Alfredo stood staring out the window with the phone in his
hand, wondering how Maria could still have the courage to confront the Doberman pincers. He
observed that she carried the child on her hip while attending to the animals, reminding himself
to raise this with the maid later. Alfredo had felt responsible for the attack Maria had
sustained those years before, when the dogs had savaged her outside the servants' quarters. He
turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. It was Bartlett – and the news was not
good.

‘I waited as per our agreement, Alfredo. She just didn't
turn up.'

The late, General Narciso Dominguez's trusted lieutenant
heaved a woeful sigh, recalling Sharon's penchant for discipline, and always getting it right.
Also, he had no reason to doubt Bartlett, as the captain had long earned their trust. ‘We must
assume that something has happened to her.'

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