This story happened about fifty years ago when a close friend of mine, Martin Haliday, was a District Officer in the East Coast of Malaya. Obsessed with the mystery surrounding a place called Kuala Banat, Martin had embarked on a plan to open a settlement there. He succeeded after much effort to get official approval, but ran into problems when he tried to attract settlers. Villagers from around the area, aware of the mysterious character of the place, and superstitious as always, refused to uproot themselves for such a venture. The government finally had to transplant about thirty Malay families from the Kuala Terengganu area to establish the first Kuala Banat village. Then something terrible happened. Days after it was opened, a team of government officials visited the new settlement, and made a shocking discovery. It seemed as if a plague had overrun it. Bodies lay all over the place, children, men, women, even poultry and livestock. None carried any injuries, but every single one of them had the look of terror, wide open eyes, open mouths, bodies contorted as if cowering in the face of a monstrosity. They were taken to town for investigations, but to this day, no one could shed any light on the cause of their deaths. All the doctors could say was it was probably some unknown contagion. martin himself, who was found unconscious, never recovered. He was brought back for treatment, but went from bad to worst and finally succumbed to his condition. When questioned about Kuala Banat before he passed away, he become incoherent and could not explain clearly what had happened.
I was the last person to see Martin. He sent for me just before he died and I rushed right away to his place where he was being treated. It was in the late evening then. He was lying on an old metal bed, his eyes shut. The only visible sign of life in him was the rapid pumping of his chest for he was panting like he had just had a hard run. The table beside him was completely covered by medicine bottles and a cold plate of dinner. The house was quiet except for the distant calls of owls and insects. As I pulled a chair to his side, Martin opened his eyes weakly and stared at the ceiling for some time before slowly turning to me. He smiled a pathetic smile and, his voice choking, spoke to me. 'I have to tell you what happened. I must, or I'll have no peace in my grave. I must tell you everything about Kuala Banat, from beginning to the end. But before I do, swear to God's name that you will not let anyone open another settlement or live in Kuala Banat, ever. Please, swear now, before I go.'
Well, I did as he told me to, just to humor him. He smiled that smile again and, almost whispering, said, 'I'm not mad, you know! I'm sane like you, but everyone says I'm mad. You can see I'm not, can't you? But there's no point trying to convince them. They'll never believe you anyway.' He paused to catch his breath, and then gestured to an old book by his side. 'I know what I'm saying, I know what I'm writing. Here's my diary. It has everything you'll need to know about Kuala Banat. And everything it says is true. I'm not lying, and I'm not crazy. Please believe me.'
I nodded, just to make him feel better. Moments later, he closed his eyes, and slept. Forever. I took on the task of packing up Martin's belongings and clearing them from the house, mostly to be shipped to his family, some to be disposed off. I kept only the diary, for I wanted badly to know what really happened in Kuala Banat.
One thing Martin Haliday loved to do in his spare time was going fishing with the local Malay fisherman. On those jaunts at sea, he was just like any of them, spending days at a stretch, working their lines, their nets and their traps, being grilled by the hot sun by day and chilled by cold winds and dew by night. He thoroughly enjoyed their company and would rather toil with them than sit in the comfort of his office. He found it an exhilarating experience just to drift in the open sea as dawn broke over an uninterrupted horizon. It was this favorite pastime of his that led Martin to discover the mystery of Kuala Banat. He was then with his usual band of fishermen from Kuala Pulai, on a long journey back from their favorite fishing grounds. It was early dawn and, seated in the middle of the boat, Martin could not help but be struck by the sparkling stars dotting the sky that was turning light with the first rays of the rising sun. The party had by then found themselves becalmed by lack of wind and had to resort to rowing . They soon became exhausted and, with still a long way to go before reaching home, they decided to stop over at Kuala Banat. The sun was up by the time they beached there and everyone alighted from the boat to erect temporary shelters, as they were going to spend the day there. After breakfast, they lay down for a good rest.
When Martin awoke, the sun was well on its way down to the west. Some of the boatmen were preparing dinner while others were bringing down their shelters for soon they would be resuming their journey home. Martin went down to a stream to bathe. Then, deciding he had some time to kill, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and went off to explore the forest. As he went in, he noticed flocks of birds, of various sizes and colors, flying about and creating a racket as they scrambled and jostled for a perch to spend the night. Rambling further inland, he suddenly found himself in a clearing. It was a surprise to him to find this bald space in the thick of the jungle, where every inch of the ground was otherwise covered by vegetation. It was as if the jungle had decided to avoid it. As he stepped into the clearing, Martin was struck by the concrete like hardness of the ground. he looked around, intrigued, and something caught his attention. Something almost concealed by the lush undergrowth at the edge of the clearing. he went up for a closer look. At that very moment, the noisy birds abruptly became silent, as if sensing danger. Martin noticed that and wondered why, but went ahead anyway.
He discovered among the undergrowth, the ruins of an ancient stone wall. As he probed further in the scrub, he found pieces of broken masonry, some big, some small, with features that reminded him of European buildings of the medieval era. It soon dawned upon him that he must be standing on the ruins of a fortress of some kind. Questions then came in a deluge. Masonry? Fortress? In this part of the world? The natives here used wood in their grandest of buildings, so it must have been foreigners who built this. But who? What were they doing building a fortress in this place? And what made them abandon it? He sat down to reflect on the puzzle, searching his own knowledge of the history of Malaya for some clues. but nothing seemed to help. Dusk came but, deep in his thoughts over the mystery, Martin took no notice. If not for the persistent shouts of the men on the beach, he would have remained at the clearing right through nightfall. Jolted out of reverie, he got up and hurried back. But even as he did, he resolved to return one day to probe further into the mystery of the ruins.
As he sailed home that evening, Martin could not get Kuala Banat out of his mind. He asked everyone in the boat, but not one of them seemed to know anything, or seemed prepared to say anything about it. Their attitude strengthened his resolve to dig into the mystery. There must be a story behind it, something extraordinary, for these guys seemed so reluctant to say more than a few words about what they knew. Back home, Martin wasted no time digging into the background of the area. He started spending all his leisure hours in the library at his office, reading up on the history of Malaya, seeking any scrap of information he could glean about Kuala Banat. As a result, he no longer found the time to join the folks of Kuala Pulai on their fishing trips. this change in his behaviour was quickly noticed by the folks. It aroused the particular concern of one man, Pawang Mat Yasin, the village shaman.
Martin's interest in Kuala Banat had turned into an obsession. The mysterious place had so enchanted him that all he wanted to do in his life was to be among the ruins, to live there, and to work there. That was how he came up with plans to open the settlement. The idea was, with the place inhabited, he could live there and be where he really loved to be. He wrote to his superiors and, after months of hard work, finally obtained official approval. Elated, Martin gathered the villagers of Kuala Pulai to announce the plan. He tried to entice them to settle there, telling them what a blessed land it was and what abundance it offered. He described to them the exciting ideas he had for the settlement. he told them many wonderful things about Kuala Banat, but to his disappointment, they refused to resettle. The folks simply would not hear about moving there. Undeterred, Martin got in touch with his superiors again, and sometime later, a government boat arrived at Kuala Pulai with thirty families from Kuala Terengganu, to found the new settlement of Kuala Banat.
Martin received them with obvious delight and quickly arranged for thirty native prahus to transport them there. but the folks of Kuala Pulai simply watched as the settlers prepared for their journey, saying nothing to stop or encourage them. On the eve of their departure, Pawang Mat Yassin called on martin. He wanted him to abandon the plan. As expected, martin would not have it. It would be unthinkable to call off the plan now, after so much had been done to get it going. Kuala Banat was, after all, such a lovely place to live and make one's living. Indeed, Martin thought it odd that anyone should try to discourage him from going. He found it even more puzzling when Pawang Mat Yassin became insistent, and talked of some 'great peril' that Martin and his people would suffer should they proceed with the plan. Martin responded with assurances that all necessary precautions would be taken and that he would personally see to it that no danger would come to his people. In fact, he invited the shaman to join them. 'I'd rather be cut into pieces than step foot in that cursed place. It's full of evil,' replied Pawang Mat Yassin, looking very anxious. But when Martin dismissed his fears as pure superstition, the shaman, his anxiety replaced by indignation, immediately agreed to join him just so that martin could see for himself that he was telling the truth. All he asked was the freedom to return to Kuala Pulai anytime he wanted.
Early the next morning, martin and his party of settlers set off for Kuala Banat. Pawang mat Yassin, sharing the same boat with Martin, lodged himself in the aft and immediately started chanting quietly all the prayers for safety he could think of. Occasionally martin would catch him shuddering in fear, but he simply ignored him and pretended no tot notice. The sun had almost set when Martin's party made it to the waters off Kuala Banat, so the settlers decided to spend the night in their boats and to land the next morning. But already that evening, Kuala Banat was seeing the change that was coming its way as dozens of lanterns and the drone of human voices turned the sea alive. The moon shone bright under a pristine sky. The Kuala Banat beach looked invitingly pure. Beyond the beach, the leaves on the trees glimmered under the moonlight to contrast with the dark, solid profile of the mountains in the background. martin told himself it was a scene like he had never seen before. he wondered how his ruined fortress would look in the golden moonlight. It must be fabulous. He felt a sense of elation because God had now granted his wishes. He could imagine what a great place Kuala Banat would be once his people had settled down.
Next morning, Martin and his men were up with the sun to get their stuff unloaded and taken to the shore and to start clearing the land where they were to build their new houses. Tasks were allocated among themselves, some to cut trees, some to level the ground, others to fish and yet others to prepare the meals. But one man stood out in the midst of this hubbub. He was none other than Pawang Mat Yassin, who, for the best part of the day, remained stuck to his place in the boat. It took a lot of persuasion by Martin before he finally agreed to step ashore, and even then that ominous look never left his face. 'We have not really settled down, sir,' he warned. 'We've not seen this venture through. So, don't start celebrating yet.' 'Well, we've landed and we've spent the whole day on the beach, haven't we?' countered Martin. 'Yes, but spending the night at sea,' the old man replied. 'No, no, Sir. I think we should just abandon this idea and return home.' 'Come on, Pawang, don't talk nonsense. It's not that simple, you know,' said Martin, getting a little exasperated. Then, seeing how earnest and sincere the old shaman was, he felt a little uneasy. Why is this old man so persistent? Does he know something about the place that no one else does?
On the third day, Martin joined some of the men on a tree cutting foray into the woods, and unwittingly led them to the site of the ruins. He had been visiting the place quite frequently ever since the party arrived in Kuala Banat, but none of the other men had ever been there before. They were clearing the undergrowth around the base of a tall tree they were going to fell, close to the site, when they stumbled upon three human skulls. The men were terrified, but Martin picked up the skulls and carefully examined them. The largest had a fracture, presumably having been bashed by a heavy object. From its size and features, Martin could guess that it belonged to a Caucasian. The smallest obviously belonged to a child while the one in between was quite possibly an adult female. Martin brought the skulls to the open space, where he dug a hole and buried them. As he did, he wondered who the trio could be, how they came to be in the country and how they were connected to the ruins.
That night, as the moon rose and bathed Kuala Banat in its light, Martin lay restlessly in the boat. Try as he might, he could not close his eyes to sleep, and lay bobbing in a sea of thoughts over the mystery of the ruins and the skulls. Finally, he got up and looked out across the water to the shore, and remembered his wish to see the ruins in moonlight. Quietly, he put on his shoes and got off the boat, now tied to the jetty which the folks had just completed. He strode down the jetty to the shore, where he quickly followed the trail leading to the ruins. All the time, he was sure he was alone. What a shock he had when he reached the clearing, and suddenly heard the growl of a dog behind him. He turned around, and was relieved to see it was none other than his own dog. Somehow, it had managed to follow him all the way there without him noticing it. The dog seemed to be attracted to something at the spot where the skulls were buried. Martin could see that as its eyes were fixed there. But then, something happened and, its fierce mien was instantly replaced by a look of terror. the dog then turned on its tail and fled along the track back to the beach, whining all the way. martin gave a whistle to summon it back but it never returned. he wondered if it was a snake or some beast that had terrified the dog, but saw nothing there. Martin felt a sense of alarm building up inside him, heightened by the absolute silence about him. He looked around uneasily, sensing something watching his every movement and waiting for the right moment to pounce on him. He sniffed the air for the scent of wild animals, but there was only the aroma of leaves damp with the night's dew in his nostrils.
Then something caught his eyes, something at the spot where he had buried the three skulls, something that stood out under the bright moonlight. He bent down for a closer look, and was shocked to find it was none other than the skulls! They were back on the ground, arranged in a row just like when he had first discovered them. His heart went racing and blood surged through his body. Who could have dug up the grave and removed the skulls? There was no one in the area other than the settlers, and he knew none of them would dare touch the skulls. It could not have been wild animals either, considering how neatly they had been arranged. In any case, what would any animal want with some old, abandoned skulls long bleached by the elements? Indeed, when he looked around, he could not find any tracks to indicate the presence of any animal or humans before him. martin notice the odd way the skulls looked. Their jaws hung like they were grinning at him. And something deep within those hollow eye sockets, seemed to be staring at him. They seemed to be waiting for him to do something he knew not what for them. For the first time since he set foot among the ruins, Martin was really scared. He felt like fleeing back to the boat, but every muscle and joint in his body seemed to have seized. He stood facing the skulls, unable to move an inch as though he had been nailed to the ground. He could not take his eyes off those hollow eye sockets. Then he felt a strange sensation building up inside him. His soul was rising, leaving his body and flying towards the skulls! What happened next was a complete blank to him.
When he came next morning, he was back in the boat, and everything was a haze. He could not be sure if he had gone through what he had gone through. It felt like a dreamy experience to him. He could not even be sure he had left his bed and the boat until he saw the shoes still on his feet. Seeking to reassure himself, he hurried ashore, back to the ruins. he found the three skulls just as he thought he had seen them neatly arranged on the ground, at the exact spot where they had earlier been buried. Horrified, he retraced his footstep back to the boat, trying to recall along the way what happened the other night. Everything seemed real enough from the time he stepped ashore until the time he discovered the skulls back on the ground. But beyond that point, it was all a strange dream to him. He recalled seeing himself or was it himself? standing on the beach, looking out across the ocean. He recalled crossing himself. He recalled mouthing a string of words in a language he could not understand. He recalled feeling despondent, and scanning the horizon in a vain search for sign to bring back a ray of hope. He recalled making his way, in despair, back to the fortress in the jungle.
It was an odd feeling. He remembered doing all this, and yet it was not him. It was as if someone else had taken his body, making him do these things he could not comprehend. He recalled how surprised he was then he saw the fortress, It was solid and strong, a far cry from the ruined fortress he knew. Within its fortifications stood a house. Smoke billowed from its chimney. He was a complete stranger to all this. Yet to that other self within him, it was a familiar scene. Suddenly, he felt alarmed. He rushed to the house and burst inside. No one was around. Frantic, he called out names he had never heard of. He dashed into a dark room. As he looked around in bewilderment, something tugged at his feet. He bent down to find out what it was, and touched a form drenched in some slimy substance. He grope around, found an oil lamp, lit it and shone it on the floor. To his horror, it was a woman and a child, both European, dressed in the style of a bygone era. They lay motionless in a pool of blood. He threw himself beside them and broke down, anguished. He rose, gritting his teeth, and silently swore he would avenge their deaths.
He went out of the house and strode under the moonlight, cursing and swearing in that strange language again. As he did so, he noticed from the corner of his eye something flashing behind him. Before he could even turn to look, a violent blow landed on his head. That was the last thing he remembered before he was jolted out of sleep. What was really happening to him? Could Pawang Mat Yassin be right after all? Could there really be something evil in Kuala Banat? His dream struck him as a kind of possession. Had it to do with some supernatural presence there? But why him? Was it because he had been showing too much interest in the place? Had he disturbed something he should not have?
What if Pawang Mat Yassin was also right about the peril awaiting the settlers? It was a terrifying prospect indeed. But what could he do now? he would be in for a lot of trouble if he told the settlers to go back and abandon Kuala Banat. By this time, the settlers had complete their houses and other structures for the new settlement, and began moving ashore. In the afternoon, as Martin sat watching the sunset with troubles in his mind, Pawang Mat Yassin came along and joined him. For several minuets, he just sat quietly beside him, staring at the sea. Then he spoke. 'I guess you must be getting the feeling now, don't you, that something terrible is going to happen here? Am I right? I know because I've been watching you. Please take my advice, Sir. Abandon this place. There's still time for us to save our skins. Come on, let's get out of here, right now. My boat is just over there.' 'Abandon the place? What about these folks?' 'Let them carry on as they are,' Pawang Mat Yassin replied, his eyes still fixed at some point far away at sea. 'We can't possibly take them all back now. You'll get into a lot of trouble if we did. Let them stay. That way, both of us can go!' 'No. I can't do that. But, why don't you go, Pawang? You, of all persons, should go. You would not have been in this mess if not for me, so go on. Save yourself.' Really, Martin wished he could just flee. But he knew he could not.
'Come on, Sir. Come with me, please, while there's still a chance,' pressed Pawang Mat Yassin. Then, finally revealing the cause of his concern, he exclaimed, 'Look over there! Do you see that?' and grabbing Martin by the arm, he pointed with a trembling right hand in the direction of the sea, at what he had been watching all this time. Martin could feel the surge of blood through his body when he saw it. Way out in the ocean, in between a pair of islets close to the horizon, a sailing ship was heading for Kuala Banat. It was no ordinary sailing ship. In form and design, it belonged to an European era of five hundred years ago! And astonishingly, it was speeding their way, against the wind! 'What kind of ship is that?' asked Martin. 'Looks like a junk.' Even as he said that, it was clear to him that there was something very wrong about that vessel.
'It's a demon ship, Sir. My God! That vessel's full of evil, and it's coming our way. Please, Sir, you've got to listen to me. Let's get out of this place while we still have the chance. Come with me to my boat!' pressed an anxious Pawang Mat Yassin. But it was clear to the shaman that Martin was not going to quit Kuala Banat, or abandon his folks, for anything. Finally giving up, he released his grip on Martin's arm and unsheathed his kris. In the sand at his feet, Pawang Mat Yassin quickly drew a human figure with the dagger. 'Here. This is a talisman. If you really must stay, please use it. make sure you lie down inside the figure before the ship reaches the shore. It will be just enough to protect you from peril, by the Grace of Allah. But if there is any doubt in your mind that you can survive this, for your own sake, get out of here.' And with those words, Pawang Mat Yassin dashed for his boat, got in and rowed furiously away.
Martin spent some time, standing motionlessly on the beach, watching Pawang Mat Yassin and his boat fade into the distance. Then he shifted his eyes, first to the fast approaching ship, then to the talisman Pawang Mat Yassin had drawn for him in the sand. The last thing he saw before the sun set, plunging Kuala Banat into darkness, was his dog. It was looking up at the sky and howling like it had never howled before.
The rest of the story was told by a government official who was among those who visited Kuala Banat and discovered the deaths. 'I'll never forget that morning in Kuala Banat,' he said as he began the story. 'We went there by a government launch, arriving just before noon. From the distance we could already see the grisly scene awaiting us. Everything was still, except for the howling of a dog somewhere. My boatmen, all Malays, did not hide their sense of terror. I went ashore and, my God, it was like a battle scene. The whole place was littered with dead bodies. Men, women, children, young and old, even livestock and poultry! Everyone of them sprawled face down on the earth, hands and feet jerked behind them, like they were trying to flee from something when death struck. Their eyes were open wide, and their mouths looked like they had been screaming in terror. 'It was a really shocking sight. We had to dig a huge grave to bury them, and that was only after I'd spent a long time persuading the men to do it. They were so terrified they dared not step out of the boat. And then I found Martin. He was sprawled on the ground just like the others, except that, he lay within a human figure drawn in the sand. The dog, who was beside him, kept on howling. Martin was unconscious, and no wonder too. He had been lying in the heat of day without his clothes. He behaved like a madman when he came to.
'We rushed him back for treatment and had some of the dead bodies removed for medical investigations. But, no clue was found as to what could have caused their deaths. All the doctors could say was that it was probably some unknown contagion.' What really happened to the Kuala Banat settlers? What caused their deaths? what about that mysterious sailing ship? To this day, no one has the answers.
As he sailed home that evening, Martin could not get Kuala Banat out of his mind. He asked everyone in the boat, but not one of them seemed to know anything, or seemed prepared to say anything about it. Their attitude strengthened his resolve to dig into the mystery. There must be a story behind it, something extraordinary, for these guys seemed so reluctant to say more than a few words about what they knew. Back home, Martin wasted no time digging into the background of the area. He started spending all his leisure hours in the library at his office, reading up on the history of Malaya, seeking any scrap of information he could glean about Kuala Banat. As a result, he no longer found the time to join the folks of Kuala Pulai on their fishing trips. this change in his behaviour was quickly noticed by the folks. It aroused the particular concern of one man, Pawang Mat Yasin, the village shaman.
Martin's interest in Kuala Banat had turned into an obsession. The mysterious place had so enchanted him that all he wanted to do in his life was to be among the ruins, to live there, and to work there. That was how he came up with plans to open the settlement. The idea was, with the place inhabited, he could live there and be where he really loved to be. He wrote to his superiors and, after months of hard work, finally obtained official approval. Elated, Martin gathered the villagers of Kuala Pulai to announce the plan. He tried to entice them to settle there, telling them what a blessed land it was and what abundance it offered. He described to them the exciting ideas he had for the settlement. he told them many wonderful things about Kuala Banat, but to his disappointment, they refused to resettle. The folks simply would not hear about moving there. Undeterred, Martin got in touch with his superiors again, and sometime later, a government boat arrived at Kuala Pulai with thirty families from Kuala Terengganu, to found the new settlement of Kuala Banat.
Martin received them with obvious delight and quickly arranged for thirty native prahus to transport them there. but the folks of Kuala Pulai simply watched as the settlers prepared for their journey, saying nothing to stop or encourage them. On the eve of their departure, Pawang Mat Yassin called on martin. He wanted him to abandon the plan. As expected, martin would not have it. It would be unthinkable to call off the plan now, after so much had been done to get it going. Kuala Banat was, after all, such a lovely place to live and make one's living. Indeed, Martin thought it odd that anyone should try to discourage him from going. He found it even more puzzling when Pawang Mat Yassin became insistent, and talked of some 'great peril' that Martin and his people would suffer should they proceed with the plan. Martin responded with assurances that all necessary precautions would be taken and that he would personally see to it that no danger would come to his people. In fact, he invited the shaman to join them. 'I'd rather be cut into pieces than step foot in that cursed place. It's full of evil,' replied Pawang Mat Yassin, looking very anxious. But when Martin dismissed his fears as pure superstition, the shaman, his anxiety replaced by indignation, immediately agreed to join him just so that martin could see for himself that he was telling the truth. All he asked was the freedom to return to Kuala Pulai anytime he wanted.
Early the next morning, martin and his party of settlers set off for Kuala Banat. Pawang mat Yassin, sharing the same boat with Martin, lodged himself in the aft and immediately started chanting quietly all the prayers for safety he could think of. Occasionally martin would catch him shuddering in fear, but he simply ignored him and pretended no tot notice. The sun had almost set when Martin's party made it to the waters off Kuala Banat, so the settlers decided to spend the night in their boats and to land the next morning. But already that evening, Kuala Banat was seeing the change that was coming its way as dozens of lanterns and the drone of human voices turned the sea alive. The moon shone bright under a pristine sky. The Kuala Banat beach looked invitingly pure. Beyond the beach, the leaves on the trees glimmered under the moonlight to contrast with the dark, solid profile of the mountains in the background. martin told himself it was a scene like he had never seen before. he wondered how his ruined fortress would look in the golden moonlight. It must be fabulous. He felt a sense of elation because God had now granted his wishes. He could imagine what a great place Kuala Banat would be once his people had settled down.
Next morning, Martin and his men were up with the sun to get their stuff unloaded and taken to the shore and to start clearing the land where they were to build their new houses. Tasks were allocated among themselves, some to cut trees, some to level the ground, others to fish and yet others to prepare the meals. But one man stood out in the midst of this hubbub. He was none other than Pawang Mat Yassin, who, for the best part of the day, remained stuck to his place in the boat. It took a lot of persuasion by Martin before he finally agreed to step ashore, and even then that ominous look never left his face. 'We have not really settled down, sir,' he warned. 'We've not seen this venture through. So, don't start celebrating yet.' 'Well, we've landed and we've spent the whole day on the beach, haven't we?' countered Martin. 'Yes, but spending the night at sea,' the old man replied. 'No, no, Sir. I think we should just abandon this idea and return home.' 'Come on, Pawang, don't talk nonsense. It's not that simple, you know,' said Martin, getting a little exasperated. Then, seeing how earnest and sincere the old shaman was, he felt a little uneasy. Why is this old man so persistent? Does he know something about the place that no one else does?
On the third day, Martin joined some of the men on a tree cutting foray into the woods, and unwittingly led them to the site of the ruins. He had been visiting the place quite frequently ever since the party arrived in Kuala Banat, but none of the other men had ever been there before. They were clearing the undergrowth around the base of a tall tree they were going to fell, close to the site, when they stumbled upon three human skulls. The men were terrified, but Martin picked up the skulls and carefully examined them. The largest had a fracture, presumably having been bashed by a heavy object. From its size and features, Martin could guess that it belonged to a Caucasian. The smallest obviously belonged to a child while the one in between was quite possibly an adult female. Martin brought the skulls to the open space, where he dug a hole and buried them. As he did, he wondered who the trio could be, how they came to be in the country and how they were connected to the ruins.
That night, as the moon rose and bathed Kuala Banat in its light, Martin lay restlessly in the boat. Try as he might, he could not close his eyes to sleep, and lay bobbing in a sea of thoughts over the mystery of the ruins and the skulls. Finally, he got up and looked out across the water to the shore, and remembered his wish to see the ruins in moonlight. Quietly, he put on his shoes and got off the boat, now tied to the jetty which the folks had just completed. He strode down the jetty to the shore, where he quickly followed the trail leading to the ruins. All the time, he was sure he was alone. What a shock he had when he reached the clearing, and suddenly heard the growl of a dog behind him. He turned around, and was relieved to see it was none other than his own dog. Somehow, it had managed to follow him all the way there without him noticing it. The dog seemed to be attracted to something at the spot where the skulls were buried. Martin could see that as its eyes were fixed there. But then, something happened and, its fierce mien was instantly replaced by a look of terror. the dog then turned on its tail and fled along the track back to the beach, whining all the way. martin gave a whistle to summon it back but it never returned. he wondered if it was a snake or some beast that had terrified the dog, but saw nothing there. Martin felt a sense of alarm building up inside him, heightened by the absolute silence about him. He looked around uneasily, sensing something watching his every movement and waiting for the right moment to pounce on him. He sniffed the air for the scent of wild animals, but there was only the aroma of leaves damp with the night's dew in his nostrils.
Then something caught his eyes, something at the spot where he had buried the three skulls, something that stood out under the bright moonlight. He bent down for a closer look, and was shocked to find it was none other than the skulls! They were back on the ground, arranged in a row just like when he had first discovered them. His heart went racing and blood surged through his body. Who could have dug up the grave and removed the skulls? There was no one in the area other than the settlers, and he knew none of them would dare touch the skulls. It could not have been wild animals either, considering how neatly they had been arranged. In any case, what would any animal want with some old, abandoned skulls long bleached by the elements? Indeed, when he looked around, he could not find any tracks to indicate the presence of any animal or humans before him. martin notice the odd way the skulls looked. Their jaws hung like they were grinning at him. And something deep within those hollow eye sockets, seemed to be staring at him. They seemed to be waiting for him to do something he knew not what for them. For the first time since he set foot among the ruins, Martin was really scared. He felt like fleeing back to the boat, but every muscle and joint in his body seemed to have seized. He stood facing the skulls, unable to move an inch as though he had been nailed to the ground. He could not take his eyes off those hollow eye sockets. Then he felt a strange sensation building up inside him. His soul was rising, leaving his body and flying towards the skulls! What happened next was a complete blank to him.
When he came next morning, he was back in the boat, and everything was a haze. He could not be sure if he had gone through what he had gone through. It felt like a dreamy experience to him. He could not even be sure he had left his bed and the boat until he saw the shoes still on his feet. Seeking to reassure himself, he hurried ashore, back to the ruins. he found the three skulls just as he thought he had seen them neatly arranged on the ground, at the exact spot where they had earlier been buried. Horrified, he retraced his footstep back to the boat, trying to recall along the way what happened the other night. Everything seemed real enough from the time he stepped ashore until the time he discovered the skulls back on the ground. But beyond that point, it was all a strange dream to him. He recalled seeing himself or was it himself? standing on the beach, looking out across the ocean. He recalled crossing himself. He recalled mouthing a string of words in a language he could not understand. He recalled feeling despondent, and scanning the horizon in a vain search for sign to bring back a ray of hope. He recalled making his way, in despair, back to the fortress in the jungle.
It was an odd feeling. He remembered doing all this, and yet it was not him. It was as if someone else had taken his body, making him do these things he could not comprehend. He recalled how surprised he was then he saw the fortress, It was solid and strong, a far cry from the ruined fortress he knew. Within its fortifications stood a house. Smoke billowed from its chimney. He was a complete stranger to all this. Yet to that other self within him, it was a familiar scene. Suddenly, he felt alarmed. He rushed to the house and burst inside. No one was around. Frantic, he called out names he had never heard of. He dashed into a dark room. As he looked around in bewilderment, something tugged at his feet. He bent down to find out what it was, and touched a form drenched in some slimy substance. He grope around, found an oil lamp, lit it and shone it on the floor. To his horror, it was a woman and a child, both European, dressed in the style of a bygone era. They lay motionless in a pool of blood. He threw himself beside them and broke down, anguished. He rose, gritting his teeth, and silently swore he would avenge their deaths.
He went out of the house and strode under the moonlight, cursing and swearing in that strange language again. As he did so, he noticed from the corner of his eye something flashing behind him. Before he could even turn to look, a violent blow landed on his head. That was the last thing he remembered before he was jolted out of sleep. What was really happening to him? Could Pawang Mat Yassin be right after all? Could there really be something evil in Kuala Banat? His dream struck him as a kind of possession. Had it to do with some supernatural presence there? But why him? Was it because he had been showing too much interest in the place? Had he disturbed something he should not have?
What if Pawang Mat Yassin was also right about the peril awaiting the settlers? It was a terrifying prospect indeed. But what could he do now? he would be in for a lot of trouble if he told the settlers to go back and abandon Kuala Banat. By this time, the settlers had complete their houses and other structures for the new settlement, and began moving ashore. In the afternoon, as Martin sat watching the sunset with troubles in his mind, Pawang Mat Yassin came along and joined him. For several minuets, he just sat quietly beside him, staring at the sea. Then he spoke. 'I guess you must be getting the feeling now, don't you, that something terrible is going to happen here? Am I right? I know because I've been watching you. Please take my advice, Sir. Abandon this place. There's still time for us to save our skins. Come on, let's get out of here, right now. My boat is just over there.' 'Abandon the place? What about these folks?' 'Let them carry on as they are,' Pawang Mat Yassin replied, his eyes still fixed at some point far away at sea. 'We can't possibly take them all back now. You'll get into a lot of trouble if we did. Let them stay. That way, both of us can go!' 'No. I can't do that. But, why don't you go, Pawang? You, of all persons, should go. You would not have been in this mess if not for me, so go on. Save yourself.' Really, Martin wished he could just flee. But he knew he could not.
'Come on, Sir. Come with me, please, while there's still a chance,' pressed Pawang Mat Yassin. Then, finally revealing the cause of his concern, he exclaimed, 'Look over there! Do you see that?' and grabbing Martin by the arm, he pointed with a trembling right hand in the direction of the sea, at what he had been watching all this time. Martin could feel the surge of blood through his body when he saw it. Way out in the ocean, in between a pair of islets close to the horizon, a sailing ship was heading for Kuala Banat. It was no ordinary sailing ship. In form and design, it belonged to an European era of five hundred years ago! And astonishingly, it was speeding their way, against the wind! 'What kind of ship is that?' asked Martin. 'Looks like a junk.' Even as he said that, it was clear to him that there was something very wrong about that vessel.
'It's a demon ship, Sir. My God! That vessel's full of evil, and it's coming our way. Please, Sir, you've got to listen to me. Let's get out of this place while we still have the chance. Come with me to my boat!' pressed an anxious Pawang Mat Yassin. But it was clear to the shaman that Martin was not going to quit Kuala Banat, or abandon his folks, for anything. Finally giving up, he released his grip on Martin's arm and unsheathed his kris. In the sand at his feet, Pawang Mat Yassin quickly drew a human figure with the dagger. 'Here. This is a talisman. If you really must stay, please use it. make sure you lie down inside the figure before the ship reaches the shore. It will be just enough to protect you from peril, by the Grace of Allah. But if there is any doubt in your mind that you can survive this, for your own sake, get out of here.' And with those words, Pawang Mat Yassin dashed for his boat, got in and rowed furiously away.
Martin spent some time, standing motionlessly on the beach, watching Pawang Mat Yassin and his boat fade into the distance. Then he shifted his eyes, first to the fast approaching ship, then to the talisman Pawang Mat Yassin had drawn for him in the sand. The last thing he saw before the sun set, plunging Kuala Banat into darkness, was his dog. It was looking up at the sky and howling like it had never howled before.
The rest of the story was told by a government official who was among those who visited Kuala Banat and discovered the deaths. 'I'll never forget that morning in Kuala Banat,' he said as he began the story. 'We went there by a government launch, arriving just before noon. From the distance we could already see the grisly scene awaiting us. Everything was still, except for the howling of a dog somewhere. My boatmen, all Malays, did not hide their sense of terror. I went ashore and, my God, it was like a battle scene. The whole place was littered with dead bodies. Men, women, children, young and old, even livestock and poultry! Everyone of them sprawled face down on the earth, hands and feet jerked behind them, like they were trying to flee from something when death struck. Their eyes were open wide, and their mouths looked like they had been screaming in terror. 'It was a really shocking sight. We had to dig a huge grave to bury them, and that was only after I'd spent a long time persuading the men to do it. They were so terrified they dared not step out of the boat. And then I found Martin. He was sprawled on the ground just like the others, except that, he lay within a human figure drawn in the sand. The dog, who was beside him, kept on howling. Martin was unconscious, and no wonder too. He had been lying in the heat of day without his clothes. He behaved like a madman when he came to.
'We rushed him back for treatment and had some of the dead bodies removed for medical investigations. But, no clue was found as to what could have caused their deaths. All the doctors could say was that it was probably some unknown contagion.' What really happened to the Kuala Banat settlers? What caused their deaths? what about that mysterious sailing ship? To this day, no one has the answers.
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