The Pirates Of Borneo

Amongst the most warlike savages on the face of the earth must be counted the natives of the coast of Borneo.
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Amongst the most warlike savages on the face of the earth must be counted the natives of the coast of Borneo.
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From the book “Stirring Scenes In Savage Lands” by James Greenwood, published in 1865.
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From the book “Among Cannibals” by Carl Lumholtz, published in 1889.
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I had scarcely left the gates of the town behind, when I perceived a number of Europeans seated upon elephants, coming from the bungalow. On meeting each other we pulled up and commenced a conversation. The gentlemen were on the road to search for a tiger-lair, of which they had received intimation, and invited me, if such a sport would not frighten me too much, to take part in it.
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A Sudanese immigrant went berserk and tried to behead a man on the streets of Belfast – what’s so weird about that?
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We had no arms, as we had been told that the road was perfectly safe, and the only weapons of defence which we possessed were our parasols, if I except a clasp-knife, which I instantly drew out of my pocket and opened, fully determined to sell my life as dearly as possible.
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Though the Indians of New England were for many years vastly superior in numbers to the white men, they were never wholly united, and their cowardice and lack of discipline were weaknesses for which their treachery and deceit could not compensate. The long conflict between the races culminated in 1675 in King Philip’s War, when the wily Wampanoag sachem succeeded in forming a confederation, embracing nearly all the New England tribes, for a final desperate struggle.
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After Charlie Kirk’s gruesome assassination, all hell broke loose.
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John Lawson, an English writer and explorer, describes the effects of alcohol on the Red Indians, observed during his travels in North Carolina (1700-1708).
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Have you seen the horrific video of black people beating the crap out of two white people – a man and a woman – at a jazz festival in Cincinnati?
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To come to the point at once, I beg to say that I have not the least belief in the Noble Savage. I consider him a prodigious nuisance, and an enormous superstition. His calling rum fire-water, and me a pale face, wholly fail to reconcile me to him. I don’t care what he calls me. I call him a savage, and I call a savage a something highly desirable to be civilised off the face of the earth.
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English Law now reigns in Zululand, and the occupation of the Witch-finders is almost gone; but in times past they were potent personages, whom an enslaving superstition had armed with despotic influence.
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I saw a Haitian eating a cat in broad daylight on a street in Springfield, Ohio.
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One day a young fellow was hunting deer near Pinto Creek, twelve miles from Fort Clark in Texas. His name was Henry Shane, and, although a German by birth, he had early emigrated to the Lone Star State, where he had joined the United States army and had fought in the more important battles of the Mexican War.
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It was the year 1840. Texas was still a wild country, but the white settlers were pressing forward to farm and to raise cattle and horses. The redskins did not like it.
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In 1781 was born in Frederick County, Maryland, a pioneer who was truly entitled to the name of “The Mighty Hunter.”
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“You will do, boy, I will need you!”
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There are no really wild Indians left in the United States. Formerly there were many tribes of them, but some have disappeared, and others have lost their old-time spirit.
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When “Mad Anthony” Wayne was furiously battling with Little Turtle at Fallen Timbers, a daring adventurer was with him who was subsequently to play a most important part in the exploration of the then unconquered and unexplored West. Hardy, utterly fearless, and possessed of wonderful agility,—such was Robert McLellan, one of the most noted scouts that ever operated upon the border, and a rifleman whose aim was both quick and marvellously true.
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The difficulty of dealing—in the course of any critical duty—with decivilised man lies in this: when you accuse him of vulgarity—sparing him no doubt the word—he defends himself against the charge of barbarism.
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What one of the plainsmen did not know “Bill” Bent; “Bill,” the fellow who had battled so often with the Comanches, Kiowas, and other Indians that they called him “The Red Panther:” “Bill,” who had killed innumerable braves in open conflict; and “Bill” who had often just escaped the scalping-knife by a mere hair’s breadth? The old fellow was a true plains’ hero, and after you have heard some of the stories about his escapades with the redskins I’ll warrant that you will agree that he was a marvellously lucky scout.
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“Boys, watch your mother and grandfather for a few hours, because I am going out fishing. There is no danger of attack from redskins, for none have been seen for six months. If, however, any one comes to our cabin with news of prowling bands, shoot off your rifles three times. This will warn me of any danger to you, and I will hasten home.”
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Malita was a half-breed, the daughter of an old squaw. She had spent several years at the Indian school in Phœnix, and had proved herself an apt pupil. Later she went to work on Simmons’ Ranch. She was a very pretty, healthy looking girl, and one day Morgan Jones, the hunter and trapper, asked her to marry him. She went with him to his cabin near the Reservation and settled down.
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I have frequently been a spectator of them, and once bore a part in a similar scene. But what added to the horror of it was that I had not the consolation of being able to oppose their savage attacks. Every circumstance of the adventure still dwells on my memory, and enables me to describe with greater perspicuity the brutal fierceness of the Indians when they have surprised or overpowered an enemy.
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The negroids of Southern and Eastern Africa resemble the negroes. They are generally tall; they have a fine dark brown color, long narrow heads, hair less kinky and woolly than the negroes, flat nose and thick lips. They do not have the negro’s odor. The negroids comprise many different tribes, but all speak related languages known as the Bantu languages. The tribes we shall consider are the Zulus, Kaffirs, and Waganda.
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Two red men paddled down the White River, far in the western portion of the state of Virginia, one bright morning in the month of May, 1765. As they rounded a bend in the stream, before them was a little trapper’s son, apparently with no one with him. He was throwing pebbles into the water and was laughing as they splashed upon the surface of the stream.
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The success which has attended the labours of the Lutheran and Moravian Missionaries among the Eskimos has been well deserved by their self-denying devotedness. Few of the Arctic tribes are now outside the pale of Christianity; and all have been more or less directly influenced by its elements of purification and elevation.
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The mountaineers were pushing, adventurous and fearless men who thought nothing of laying down their lives in the service of a friend. They usually carried very little with them. A few ponies transported their meagre supplies, and, with only enough provisions to last them a few days, they often set out to journey through a vast wilderness.
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Daniel Boone—the founder of Kentucky—was revered, respected, and admired by the early pioneers. He was, as you know, a man of much skill in woodcraft, and was also an unexcelled rifle shot. Another early settler of this border state was James Harrod, of whom we have but little record, for he was a lover of solitude and his expeditions into the wilderness were usually taken alone.
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“Money and success don’t change people; they merely amplify what is already there.”
— Will Smith.
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“Mother, I know that the law allows me to have all of the property which my father left, but I do not want it. You can have your share, and to my brothers and sisters I give the remainder. I, myself, will move further West, into the wilderness.”
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“I hate every Indian that I ever saw and would just as lief take a shot at one as eat!”
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No more famous plainsman ever lived upon the Wyoming prairies than Uncle Job Witherspoon: a veteran of many an Indian battle: of several tussles with grizzly bears; and of frequent brushes with desperadoes and bad men who had taken to the hills in order to escape jail.
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The indigenous peoples of Australia wanted to be recognized. Based Australians told them to fuck off.
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I got triggered hard yesterday by Red Indians who were overzealously celebrating Indigenous Peoples’ Day on Twitter and went on a formidable racist rant against them.
I lost my cool.
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We have already spoken of the district of true negroes. In the Sudan they are at their best and purest type. The skin is almost black; the head long and narrow; the face narrow; the hair kinky and woolly. The lower part of the face projects far beyond the upper part. The lips are thick. Negroes have an odor which is peculiar to them, and which most white persons dislike. Many of the negro tribes are composed of persons who are tall, strong, and well built.
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In the lower corner of the mighty state of Wyoming is a town named after one of the most noted of the trappers of the West—Jim Bridger—who not only fought Indians but also traded and trapped in many an unexplored portion of the once unknown regions near the Rocky Mountains.
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When Lewis and Clark were on their way to the Pacific coast they had with them two trappers, one of whom was to meet with extraordinary adventures.
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Daniel Morgan was a famous Virginian rifleman.
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When the Europeans came to America they stumbled upon hordes of savages who were nonstop raping and killing each other.
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