Captain Redwood was probably not less than twenty-five feet. Its
peculiarity is that it throws out roots from all its branches, so that
as fast as each branch, in growing downwards, touches the ground, it
takes root, and in due time serves as a substantial prop to the
horizontal bough, which, without some such support, would give way
beneath its own weight.
They intended it for only a temporary dwelling-place, until their
strength should be sufficiently established to enable them to start on
their contemplated overland journey, with a prospect of being able to
continue it to its end.
It seemed, at length, as if fortune, hitherto so adverse, had turned a
smiling face toward them; and they were not much longer to be detained
upon that wild and dangerous shore. For the same day on which they
removed from the upas to the fig-tree, the latter furnished them with an
article of food in sufficient quantity to stock their larder for nearly
a week, and of a quality superior in strengthening powers to either
roast or stewed hornbill, and quite equal to the eggs of the
mound-making birds.
It was not the fruit of the fig that had done this; but an animal they
had discovered crawling along one of its branches. It was a reptile of
that most hideous and horrid shape, the _saurian_; and only the
hungriest man could ever have looked upon, with thoughts of eating it.
But Saloo felt no repugnance of this kind; he knew that the huge lizard
creeping along the limb of the banyan-tree, over five feet long, and
nearly as thick as the body of a man, would afford flesh not only
eatable, but such as would have been craved for by Apicius, had the
Roman epicure ever journeyed through the islands of the Malayan
Archipelago, and found an opportunity of making trial of it.
What they saw slowly traversing the branch above them was one of those
huge lizards of the genus _Hydrosaurus_, of which there are several
species in Indian climes--like the _iguanas_ of America--harmless
creatures, despite their horrid appearance, and often furnishing to the
hunter or forester a meal of chops and steaks both tender and delicious.
With this knowledge of what it would afford them, Saloo had no
difficulty in persuading Captain Redwood to send a bullet through the
skull of the _hydrosaurus_, and it soon lay lifeless upon the ground.
The lizard was nigh six feet from snout to tail; and Saloo, assisted by
Murtagh, soon slipped a piece of his vegetable rope around its jaws, and
slung it up to a horizontal branch for the purpose of skinning it. Thus
suspended, with limbs and arms sticking out, it bore a very disagreeable
resemblance to a human being just hanged. Saloo did not care anything
about this, but at once commenced peeling off its skin; and then he cut
the body into quarters, and subdivided them into "collops," which were
soon sputtering in the blaze of a bright fire. As the Malay had
promised, these proved tender, tasting like young pork steaks, with a
slight flavour of chicken, and just a _soupcon_ of frog. Delicate as
they were, however, after three days' dieting upon them all felt
stronger--almost strong enough, indeed, to commence their grand journey.
Just then another, and still more strengthening, kind of food was added
to their larder. It was obtained by a mere accident, in the form of a
huge wild boar of the Bornean species, which, scouring the forest in
search of fruits or roots, had strayed close to their camp under the
fig-tree. He came too close for his own safety; a bullet from Captain
Redwood's rifle having put an abrupt stop to his "rootings."
Butchered in proper scientific fashion, he not only afforded them food
for the time in the shape of pork chops, roast ribs, and the like; but
gave them a couple of hams, which, half-cooked and cured by smoking,
could be carried as a sure supply upon the journey.
And so provisioned, they at length determined on commencing it, taking
with them such articles of the wreck-salvage as could be conveniently
transferred, and might prove beneficial. Bidding adieu to the pinnace,
the dear old craft which had so safely carried them through the dangers
of the deep, they embarked on a voyage of a very different kind, in the
courses of which they were far less skilled, and of whose tracks and
perils they were even more apprehensive. But they had no other
alternative. To remain on the eastern coast of Borneo would be to stay
there for ever. They could not entertain the slightest hope of any ship
appearing off shore to rescue them. A vessel so showing itself would
be, in all probability, a prau filled with bloodthirsty pirates, who
would either kill or make captives of them, and afterwards sell them
into slavery: and a slavery from which no civilised power could redeem
them, as no civilised man might ever see them in their chains.
It was from knowing this terrible truth that Captain Redwood had
resolved upon crossing the great island overland at that part where he
supposed it to be narrowest,--the neck lying between its eastern coast
and the old Malayan town of Bruni on the west, adjacent to the islet of
Labuan, where he knew an English settlement was situated.
In pursuance of this determination, he struck camp, and moved forward
into a forest of unknown paths and mysterious perils.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
ACROSS COUNTRY.
In undertaking the journey across Borneo, Captain Redwood knew there
would be many difficulties to encounter, as well as dangers. There was
first the great distance, which could not be much less than two hundred
and fifty miles, even if they should succeed in making it in a straight
line--as the crow flies. But, no doubt, obstructions would present
themselves along the route to cause many a detour. Still this was an
obstacle which time would overcome. At the rate of ten miles a day, it
would be conquered in a month; and if two months should have to be
spent, it would not be a very formidable hardship, considering that it
was a journey overtaken to carry them through a savage wilderness, and
restore them to civilisation--nay, almost to life.
That it was to be made on foot did not dismay them, they had quite
recovered from the effects of their sea-suffering, as also from the
poisonous breath of the upas, and felt strong enough to undertake any
great feat of pedestrianism. And, as they were under no limits as to
time, they could adopt such a rate of speed as the nature of the paths
would permit. On this score there was neither apprehension nor
uneasiness; there might have been about provisions, as the cured hams of
the wild boar could not possibly last longer than a week; and what were
they to eat after these were consumed?
Saloo set their minds at rest on this matter, by telling them that the
interior forests of Borneo--which he did not know--if they at all
resembled those of Sumatra--which he did know--would be found full of
fruit-bearing trees; and, besides, numerous chances would arise for
killing or capturing birds and other small game, even if a deer or a
second wild boar did not present himself. In order to be prepared for
any such that might come in his way, as well as to save their
ammunition, of which they had but a limited supply, Saloo had spent the
last few days of their sojourn upon the coast in the manufacture of a
weapon well suited for such a purpose, even better than musket or rifle.
It was the "Sumpitan," or blow-gun. This the Malay had made, along
with a complete set of "sumpits," or arrows, and a quiver to contain
them. The sumpitan itself--eight feet in length--he fashioned from a
straight sapling of the beautiful _casuarina_ tree, which grows
throughout the islands of the Malayan Archipelago; while the little
arrows, only eight inches long, he obtained from the medium of the
leaflets of the _nibong_ palms, many of which were found near the spot
where they had encamped. The pith of the same palm served him for the
swell of the arrow, which, being compressible like cork, fills up the
tube of the sumpitan, and renders the shaft subject to propulsion from
the quick puff of breath which the blow-gun marksman, from long
practice, knows how to give it.
Saloo had been one of the best sumpitan shooters in all Sumatra, and
could send an arrow with true aim a distance of a hundred and fifty
yards. But to make its effect deadly at this distance, something more
than the mere pricking of the tiny "sumpit" was needed. This something
was a strong vegetable poison which he also knew how to prepare; and the
upas-tree, that had so nearly proved fatal to all of them, was now
called into requisition to effect a friendly service. Drawing upon its
sap, and mixing it with that of another poisonous plant--the _bina_--
Saloo gave the points of his sumpits a coating of the combined juices,
so that they would carry death into the veins of any animal having the
ill-fortune to be pierced by them.
Thus armed and equipped, he had little fear on the score of a scarcity
of provisions during the journey. On the contrary, he declared himself
confident of being able to keep the commissariat up to a point of supply
sufficient for the whole party.
It may be thought strange that they did not speculate on the chances of
arriving at some town or settlement of the natives. Indeed they did so,
but only with the thought of avoiding them; for the minds of all--the
Malay not excepted--were filled with apprehensions respecting the Dyak
and other savage tribes, which report places in the interior of Borneo,
and to whom long accredited, though perhaps only imaginative, stories
have given a character alike terrible and mysterious. They could think
of them only as savages--wild men of the woods--some of them covered
with hair, and whose chief delight and glory are the cutting off men's
heads, and not unfrequently feasting on men's flesh! No wonder that,
with these facts, or fancies, acting upon their imagination, our
travellers set forth upon their journey determined to give a wide berth
to everything that bore the shape of a human being. It was a strange
commentary on man's superiority to the lower animals, and not very
creditable to the former, that he himself was the thing they most feared
to meet with in the wooded wilderness. And yet, humiliating as the
reflection may appear, it depressed the minds of the castaways, as,
looking their last upon the bright blue sea, they turned their faces
toward the interior of the forest-covered land of Borneo.
For the first day they pursued a course leading along the bank of the
stream at whose mouth they had been sojourning ever since their arrival
on the island. They had more than one reason for keeping to the stream.
It seemed to flow in a due easterly direction, and therefore to ascend
it would lead them due west--the way they wanted to go. Besides, there
was a path along its banks, not made by man, but evidently by large
animals; whose tracks, seen here and there in soft places, showed them
to be tapirs, wild-boars, and the larger but more rare rhinoceros.
They saw none of these animals during their day's journey, though many
of the traces were fresh. Generally nocturnal in their habits, the huge
pachydermatous creatures that had made them were, during daylight,
probably lying asleep in their lairs, amid the thick underwood of the
adjacent jungles.
The travellers might have brought the pinnace up the river--so far it
was deep enough to be navigated by a row-boat; and they had at first
thought of doing so. But for several reasons they had changed their
minds, and abandoned their boat. It was too heavy to be easily
propelled by oars, especially against the current of a stream which in
many places was very rapid. Besides, if there should be a settlement of
savages on the bank, to approach in a boat would just be the way to
expose themselves to being seen, without first seeing.
But to Captain Redwood the chief objection was, that a mountain-range
rose only a short distance off, and the stream appeared to issue from
its steep sloping side; in which case it would soon assume the character
of a headlong torrent utterly unfit for navigation. Even had water
travel been easier, it could not have been long continued--perhaps not
beyond a single day; and it was not deemed worth while to bring the
pinnace with them. So thought the captain, and the others agreeing, the
boat was left where they had long since concealed her--under the
banyan-tree.
The captain's conjectures proved correct. The evening of the first
day's march brought them to the base of the mountain-ridge, down whose
rocky flank the stream poured with the strength and velocity of a
torrent. No boat could have further ascended it.
As the path leading along its edge, and hitherto comparatively level and
smooth, now changed to a difficult ascent up a rough rock-strewn ravine,
they encamped at the mountain-foot for the first night of their journey.
Next day was spent in ascending the mountain; following the ravine up to
its head, where were found the sources of the stream. Staying only for
a short noon-tide rest, they kept upward, and reached the highest point
of the ridge just as the sun was again sinking into the depths of the
forest before them.
At their camping-place on the second night no water was near; and they
might have suffered from the want of it, had they not taken the
precaution to provide against such a deficiency. Their experience as
castaways, especially the memory of their sufferings from thirst, had
rendered them wary of being again subjected to so terrible a torture.
Each of the three men carried a "canteen" strung to his waist--the joint
of a large bamboo that held at least half a gallon; while the boy and
girl also had their cane canteens, proportioned to their size and
strength. All had been filled with cool clear water before leaving the
last source of the stream, a supply sufficient to serve during their
transit of the dry mountain-ridge.
The remainder of that night was spent upon its summit; but as this
proved of considerable breadth, and was covered with a thick growth of
jungle-trees, it was near sunset the next day before they arrived at the
edge of its eastern declivity, and obtained a view of the country
beyond.
The sun was descending behind the crest of another mountain-ridge,
apparently parallel with that upon which they were, and not less than
twenty miles distant from it. Between the two extended a valley, or
rather a level plain, thickly covered with forest, except where a sheet
of water gleamed in the setting sun like a disc of liquid gold.
Nor was the plain all level. Here and there, above the wooded surface,
rose isolated hills, of rounded mound-like shape, also clothed with
timber, but with trees whose foliage, of lighter sheen, showed them to
be of species different from those on the plain below.
Through a break among the branches of those now shadowing them on the
mountain brow, the travellers for some time contemplated the country
before them, and across which, upon the morrow, they would have to make
their way.
At this moment Saloo muttered some words, which, coupled with the
expression upon his countenance as he gave utterance to them, alarmed
his companions. The words were,--
"It lookee like countly of _mias lombi_. Cappen Ledwad, if dat wild
debbel lib in dem wood below, bettel we go all lound. We tly closs it,
may be we get eat up. Singapo tiga not so dang'lous as _mias_--he not
common kind, but gleat _mias lombi_--what Poltugee people callee `_led
golilla_.'"
"The _red gorilla_!" ejaculated Captain Redwood. "Is it the
_ourang-outang_ you mean?"
"Same ting, Sahib cappen. Some call him _oolang-ootang_, some say _led
golilla_. One kind belly big--belly bad--he call _mias lombi_. He
cally away women, childen; take 'em up into top ob de highest tallee
tlee. Nobody know what he do then. Eat 'em up may be. What fol else
he want 'em? Ah! Cappen Ledwad, we dlead de oolang-Dyak. He no half
dang'lous like oolang-ootang led golilla."
Notwithstanding the _patois_ of his speech, what Saloo said was well
enough understood by his companions, for in the _led golilla_ or
_oolang-ootang_ of his peculiar pronunciation, they recognised the long
known and world-renowned ape of Borneo, which, although safe enough when
seen inside the cage of the showman, is a creature to be dreaded--at
least the species spoken of--when encountered in its native haunts, the
forests of Sumatra and Borneo.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
TOUGH TRAVELLING.
Next morning they did not start so early, because the great plain before
them was shrouded under a fog, and they waited for it to pass off.
It was not dispelled until the sun had risen in the heavens behind them,
for their backs were still to the east, their route lying due westward.
During the night, and again in the morning, they had discussed the
question of striking straight across the plain, or making a circuitous
march around it. When the fog at length lifted, this point was
definitely settled by what they saw before and on each side of them,
that the great valley plain extended both to right and left beyond the
limits of their vision. To go round it might add scores of miles and
many days to their journey. They could not think of taking such a
circuitous route, even with the fear of the wild men before them; a
danger Captain Redwood believed to be greatly exaggerated by the Malay,
who in such matters was of a somewhat imaginative turn. Throwing aside
all thought of such an encounter, they struck down the mountain slope,
determined on crossing the plain.
It was sunset when they arrived at the mountain-foot, and another night
was passed there.
On the following morning they commenced the passage of the plain; which
introduced them to a very different and much more difficult kind of
travelling than any they had experienced since leaving the sea-coast.
Some parts of their journey, both in the ascent and descent, had been
toilsome enough; but the slopes, as well as the summits, were
comparatively clear of underwood. On the low level it was quite another
affair. The huge forest-trees were loaded with parasitical creepers,
which, stretching from trunk to trunk in all directions, formed here and
there an impenetrable net or trellis-work. In such places the kris of
Saloo, and the ship's axe carried by Murtagh, were called into
requisition, and much time was expended in cutting a way through the
tangled growth.
Another kind of obstacle was also occasionally met with, in the brakes
of bamboo, where these gigantic canes, four or five inches in diameter,
and rising to a height of over fifty feet, grew so close together that
even a snake would have found difficulty in working its way through
them. Fortunately, their stems being hollow, they are easily brought
down, and a single stroke from the axe, or even Saloo's sharp kris,
given slantingly, would send one of them crashing over, its leafy top
bearing along with it the long ribbon-like leaves of many others.
One of these cane brakes proved to be upwards of a mile in width, and
its passage delayed them at least three hours. They might have
attempted to get round it, but they did not know how far it extended.
Possibly ten or twenty miles--for the bamboo thickets often run in
belts, their growth being due to the presence of some narrow water
track, or the course of a stream. In the Indian Archipelago are several
species of these tall canes, usually known by the general name of
_bamboo_, though differing from each other in size and other respects.
They furnish to the inhabitants of these islands the material for almost
every article required for their domestic economy--as the various
species of palms do to the natives of South America--more especially the
denizens of the great Amazon valley. Not only are their houses
constructed of bamboo, but the greater portion of their praus; while
utensils of many kinds, cups, bottles, and water-casks of the best make,
are obtained from its huge joints, cheaply and conveniently. A bare
catalogue of bamboo tools and utensils would certainly occupy several
pages.
Notwithstanding its valuable properties, our travellers hated the sight
of it; and more than once the Irishman, as he placed his axe upon the
silicious culms, was heard to speak disrespectfully about it, "weeshin'
that there wasn't a stalk of the cane in all Burnayo."
But another kind of obstruction vexed Murtagh even more than the brakes
of bamboo. This was the webs of huge spiders--ugly tarantula-looking
animals--whose nets in places, extending from tree to tree, traversed
the forest in every direction, resembling the seines of a
fishing-village hung out to dry, or miles of musquito-curtain depending
from the horizontal branches. Through this strange festoonery they had
to make their way, often for hundreds of yards; the soft silky substance
clutching disagreeably around their throats and clinging to their
clothes till each looked as though clad in an integument of ragged
cotton, or the long loose wool of a merino sheep yet unwoven into cloth.
And as they forced their way through it--at times requiring strength to
extricate them from its tough retentive hold--they could see the hideous
forms of the huge spiders who had spun and woven these strangely
patterned webs scuttling off, and from their dark retreats in the
crevices of the trees looking defiant and angry at the intruders upon
their domain--perhaps never before trodden by man.
Yet another kind of obstruction our travellers had to encounter on their
way across the great plain. There were tracts of moist ground,
sometimes covered with tall forest-trees, at others opening out into a
sedgy morass, with perhaps a small lake or water-patch in the centre.
The first required them to make way through mud, or thick stagnant water
covered with scum, often reaching above their knees. These places were
especially disagreeable to cross; for under the gloomy shadow of the
trees they would now and then catch a glimpse of huge newt-like lizards
of the genus _hydrosaurus_--almost as large as crocodiles--slowly
floundering out of the way, as if reluctant to leave, and
half-determined to dispute the passage.
Moreover, while thus occupied, they lived in the obscurity of an eternal
twilight, and could travel only by guess-work. They had no guide save
the sun, which in these shadows is never visible. Through the thick
foliage overhead its disc could not be seen; nor aught that would enable
them to determine its position in the sky, and along with it their
direction upon the earth. It was, therefore, not only a relief to their
feelings, but a positive necessity for their continuance in the right
direction, that now and then a stretch of open swamp obstructed their
track. True, it caused them to make a detour, and so wasted their time;
but then it afforded them a glimpse of the sun's orb, and enabled them
to pursue their journey in the right course.
During the mid-day hours they were deprived of even this guidance: for
the meridian sun gives no clue to the points of the compass. They did
not much feel the disadvantage; as at noon-tide the hot tropical
atmosphere had become almost insupportable, and the heat, added to their
fatigue from incessant toiling through thicket and swamp, made it
necessary for them to take several hours of rest.
They resumed their journey in the evening, as the sun, declining toward
the western horizon, pointed out to them the way they were to go. They
aimed to reach the sheet of water seen by them from the brow of the
mountain. They wished to strike it at its southern end, as this was
right in the direction westward. It appeared to lie about midway
between the two mountain-ranges; and, in such a case, would be a proper
halting-place on their journey across the plain. On starting from the
higher ground, they expected to reach it in a few hours, or at the
latest by sunset of that same day. But it was twilight of the third
day, when, with exhausted strength and wearied limbs, their clothing
torn and mud-stained, they stood upon its nearest shore! They did not
stand there long, but dropping down upon the earth, forgetful of
everything--even the necessity of keeping watch--they surrendered
themselves over to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
A RED SATYR.