Hotel Shnooke
Kouching, Rajahdom of Sarakwak

November 10, 1930

What Ho, Bingo!

Greetings again from your friend B. Wister, still on the great Arthurian quest dictated by my Aunt Ageta. Yes, I am still on the trail of cousins Claude and Eustace (or Clod and Useless, as they are undoubtedly known to you). We have confirmed the astounding fact that they are managing the Hutsut Estate, one of T.J. Lipounce’s tea plantations here in the Rajahdom of Sarakwak. So hie to the open road and sea and sky!

The normal trip from Humapore is two days and three nights on one of the Straights Steamship Line’s vessels, but this seemed too much of the wine-dark s. for Mr. Wister. Therefore the aviation alternative had been selected.

We had booked with the “Flying Pig Air Service” for passage via float-autogyro service to Sarakwak. Alas, when the time came to leave, we discovered that the pilot and co-pilot were ensconced in the local gaol on charges of public drunkenness. Cheebles, with his usual aplomb, got our local dragoman Tuan Shri Mohmed Hajji to energize himself and secure an alternative service. An American flyer, one Mingus Kitzelstein AKA Gus Kitzel, operates a charter service out of Koala Limburger there in the Federated Melee States and happened to be in town at a fortuitive time. He has a seaplane; an American-made Boing Aircraft Pelikan built in Sealth City.  This Kitzel was quite reasonable about price, unlike my expectation, and we arranged to transfer to Kouching, capital of the Rajahdom of Sarakwak.

We will proceed via river steamer to the plantation.

Kouching is a riverine settlement, eight miles up Sarakwak River. It was a trading post where commercial activities were concentrated along Main Bazaar and Gambier Street areas on the south bank, with the Istana (the rajah’s residence built in 1870) and Melee villages around it on the north bank of Sarakwak River. The whole Rajahdom of Sarakwak is like something out of a “Boy’s Own” or Douglas Fairbanks adventure: in 1839 a wealthy English adventurer, James Shnooke, arrived at the small settlement of Kouching in his armed yacht, the Monarchist, he found the area in a state of rebellion against the Sultan of Bruno’s governor. Shnooke apparently said “what ho!” to himself and saw his chance to curry favor with the Sultan, carpe’d his diem and used his well-armed ship to put down the rebellion. Shnooke's reward was the principality of Sarakwak. And he was appointed Rajah in 1841. 

Shnooke was a very ambitious chappie, and set out to pacify and expand his new kingdom. His methods of dealing with piracy were Solomonic and severe, and he involved the British Royal Navy and a locally recruited army in a number of hair-raising punitive expeditions to the interior. He also had Chinese gold miners' rebellion to contend with in 1857, and nearly lost his life. Yet when he died in 1868, Sarakwak had become relatively peaceful and much larger, stretching from Tanjung Datu to Kouching. The present rajah is the grandnephew of this tropical Napoleon.

This hotel is rather a swell venue. The chef is a spiritual brother of Anatole of Brinkley Court, who so delights the culinary sessions of my Uncle Tom and Aunt Dahlia. He is an American from New Orleans, claims to be old Creole stock but his peculiarly southern Brooklynese accent has lead Cheebles to deduce origin in a district called the “Irish Channel” rather than the “Vieux Carré”. Still, his tickling of the taste buds has been quite delish! 

The hotel has an excellent “hot” musical ensemble, “Eddy Singh & His Sarakwak Sophisticats”. So far they have kindly refused my offer to sit in with my banjolele.

November 11, 1930

Farewell to the Shnooke Hotel and all we know well. It was with a tune on my lips (“I’d Like to Live in Loveland (With A Girl Like You)”, actually), that Cheebles coordinated our departure for dockside and the River Steamer Orcadian Lady under the command of one Captain Albert Victor Swanson. A felicitous meeting thereupon: a cry of  “what ho, Wister!” and here was old Biffy Roxton-Biffleigh as big as l. and ugly as s.  He is the newly minted District Officer in the Ulu Hutsut district of Sarakwak for which we are bound, and has invited us to travel with him once we leave the river.

Cheebles asks to be remembered to Mrs. Bingo, as per our usual, and reminds me to mention that our dragoman is a great aficionado of her oeuvre.  He is especially fond of “Only a Factory Girl” & longs for the latest.

Must go, it’s time for our dinner sitting on the steamer! Makan kechil or canapés, then a bang-up meal by the Orcadian Lady’s Chinese cook, Lee Dong.

November 13, 1930
(Somewhere along the Hutsut River)

We’ve now come as far as man-made transport can take us. The Dyuk village of Weebangbang-upon-Hutsut is the transshipment station for the produce of Hutsut Estate. Cheebles informs me that the “autochthonous Dyuk culture rarely resort to their time-honoured practice of head-hunting at the current time,” which is a great relief to old B.W. as the noggin might rate extra gold stars to the lucky chap who collected it. 

The local Melee headman, Datuk Tuan Besar Alee, reminds me of Lord Emsword of Blandings as he is a spectacled, aristocratic and kindly sort of cove with a fanatical devotion to his prize porkers.

Must dash now, I am entrusting this to old Biffy to send out to you — our elephants are here! This proves to be an occasion to surpass the time we snuck into Regent’s Park zoological park and borrowed those camels.

Bernie

Bernard Wildebeest Wister