KINA BALU, OR CHINESE WIDOW MOUNTAIN.
Journey to Kina Balu--Visit to Pangeran Rau--Agricultural
implements--Sea Gipsies--Datu of the Badjows--Musa--Fertile
plain--River-side gardens--Women gardeners--Fording the
Tawaran--Bawang--Good scenery--Si Nilau--Kalawat--Rat-traps--A
wet journey--Bungol--Koung village--Native traders--Rice
culture--Kiau--Hiring of guides--Ascent of Kina Balu--A curious
breakfast--Rare plants en route--Mountain flowers--Large
pitcher plants--A cave dwelling--Scarcity of water--Mountain
orchids--Cool climate--Slippery descent--Lost in the forest--Return
to Kiau--Native produce--Journey to Marie Parie Spur--Return to the
coast--Native women of the interior--Hire of native boat--Return
to Labuan.
On the 29th of November, just as the dry season was commencing in
Labuan, Mr. Peter Veitch (who had a few days before joined me after
his travels in Australia and the Fiji Islands) and myself started off
on a journey to Kina Balu, which we intended to reach by way of the
Tawaran river. We had with us twenty-six men and two bird-hunters,
so that we formed a rather imposing party of thirty, all told. The men
were armed with native parangs or swords; some had krisses, and eight
or ten carried muskets with which we had provided them. We embarked
our men, stores, and travelling gear on board a little coast-steamer
bound for Sulu, and the following morning we arrived at Pulo Gaya,
and the captain lowered another boat in addition to the one we had
brought with us, and put us all safely ashore near Gantisan in Gaya
Bay. We waited here at a Roman Catholic Catechist's Station for
some time, and I ascended to the summit of the grass-covered hills
northwards. These are forest-covered below, the nebong palm being
very abundant, and attaining large dimensions.
The hill-tops above, which look so smooth and green when seen from
the sea, are found to be clad with coarse "lallang" grass a yard
high, among which the men who accompanied me pointed out several
deer lairs. Fresh green tufts of Cheilanthes tenuifolia grew in the
crevices of the decomposed sandstone, and among the clumps of nebong
palm; a singular fern, Schizæa digitata, was very plentiful.
Returning, we re-arranged our baggage, and sending our boat round
to Pangeran Rau's place at Kalombini, by sea, we and the majority of
the men started over the ridge of the wooded hill on foot. It was a
stiff climb in the hot sun, the path being both steep and rough. In
descending to the plain on the other side we shot three large swallows
and a crimson and blue-painted barbet; we were also fortunate in
finding a pretty pink-flowered zingiberad in bloom. The flat plain
into which we descended was partly cultivated, and the rice especially
looked strong and healthy. Fine buffaloes were also grazing here.
We reached Pangeran Rau's house at three o'clock, and had the usual
bichari or talk, arm-chairs and mats being at once brought into the
head-house on our arrival. Some of the women were busy pounding the
rice to separate it from the husk; and one or two ran away shrieking at
our approach--it was simply affectation, and not fright. We found the
Pangeran rather reserved, but hospitably inclined. He was a gray-haired
old fellow of over sixty, and spoke but little, asked no questions,
and spent most of his time sitting cross-legged on a mat drinking tea,
chewing limed "sirra" leaf and betel, or smoking long cigarettes of
tobacco rolled in nipa leaf, all being brought to him from time to
time by little Malay boys. The head-house was soon filled with men
from the other houses, who flocked in to see us and to hear the news
from Labuan of our followers. We rested a little, and then walked out
to obtain a bath before dinner. Some natives directed us to a spring
about half a mile off across the plain, which here, near the houses,
is of sand covered with coarse sedges and scrub. We passed two or
three palm-leaf cottages on our way; and here I noticed the first
implement of agriculture I saw in Borneo. It was a wooden harrow;
and a native seeing me interested in it, pointed to a rude iron-shod
plough which hung in a large mango tree near one of the huts.
A good many of the people who live here are Badjows or "sea gipsies,"
so called from their habit of wandering about from place to place in
boats, in which they seem more thoroughly at home than in the wretched
huts they now and then build on shore. They are essentially lazy,
and will not walk a yard if they can get a buffalo or anything having
four legs to carry them. We saw two Badjow boys going to the spring for
water, and they both rode on a buffalo calf, which seemed used to its
mischievous load. We returned to dinner at dusk, and managed to get
a good night's rest here, as the houses were cool, being built over
the water, and the mosquitoes were not nearly so bloodthirsty as usual.
Our boat did not come round until nearly ten the following morning. We
had been up since sunrise, and had our breakfast; so, when our craft
appeared, we borrowed a boat and a couple of men from the Pangeran,
and left for the Badjow village on the Menkabong. We reached that
place about noon in a drenching shower, and our guides assured us
that further progress that day was impossible. We therefore had
our things brought up into the head-house and soon made ourselves
comfortable. We had brought two dozen fine pomoloes with us from
Labuan, and the ripe ones were now really excellent in flavour; and
we thoroughly enjoyed this delicious fruit for dessert after a frugal
luncheon of bread and dried fish. About four o'clock the rain ceased,
and the sun shone beautifully, so we took our guns, and went ashore for
an hour to shoot. We secured a few pigeons and other birds, returning
to dinner at sunset. Mr. Veitch lost his watch among the long grass,
but was fortunate enough to find it on retracing his steps.
We arose at day-break the following morning, and started off, reaching
the market-place on the Tamparulie plain about seven o'clock. A large
market of fruit, fish, vegetables, rice, and other native produce,
was being held, and on landing we met with the Datu in whose village
we had remained last night. We told him the object of our presence
in his territory, and found him agreeable, although not nearly so
dignified as Pangeran Rau. He sent off one of his men to fetch us
some fruit, and he soon returned with a basket of fine langsat, in
return for which we gave him a couple of pomoloes, and we afterwards
smoked a cigar together while our men unloaded the boats. We tried
to hire two or three men from him; but as he was very extortionate
in his demands as to payment for them and a buffalo-sledge which we
wished to load with rice for our men, we cut the matter short by
refusing his assistance at any price. We sent back the Pangeran's
boat, and giving our men as much rice each as they could carry, we
returned the rest to the other boat and left two men in charge until
our return. I am inclined to think his greed was excited by seeing
the cloth and goods we had as the men unloaded the boat.
We now found out the value of the man "Musa," whom we had engaged to
superintend our men. He was an old man, but still powerful and active,
and he possessed the secret of persuasion to the utmost degree. Under
his direction the men were all loaded equally, and to their individual
satisfaction, and we set off towards Tamparulie. We saw a pretty
white-flowered cucurbit growing over bushes here and there, and
bearing spindle-shaped fruits of a scarlet colour and about two inches
long. Here and there also the red-berried spikes of an amorphophallus
were seen among the tall grass. I and Veitch shouldered our guns,
and pushed on across a low grassy plain inhabited for the time by a
few black water buffaloes, and then came a long march in single file
across a series of wet rice or padi fields, the paths through which
were scarcely a foot broad, very uneven, and being of pure clay, the
last night's rain had made them as slippery as wet soap. We who had
only our guns to carry found it rather hard work floundering about
on the greasy tracks; but the men were in good spirits, and a march
of about two hours brought us to the Tawaran, close to the village
of Tamparulie which stands on its banks.
The plain we had just traversed was well cultivated, and very fertile,
rice, bananas, cocoa-nut trees, and other vegetation being most
luxuriant. Buffaloes were employed to draw the rude ploughs through
the rich, moist earth. We saw immense flocks of white "padi birds,"
and here and there a crane, majestically stalking among the crops. At
our halting-place the river is very shallow, its high banks being
fringed with groves of cocoa-nuts and bananas; and in one or two
places I noted neatly-fenced and well-kept gardens descending nearly
to the water's edge. In these were sweet potatoes, cucumbers, maize,
and "kaladi," or Caladium esculentum. The women seemed to be the
principal cultivators of these little plots, and we could see them
at work among the garden crops here and there as we passed along.
Here we noticed a lovely palm for the first time--a caryota--having
dark green plumose foliage, the pinnæ abruptly jagged, and notched
along its margins. As we partook of our luncheon, an intelligent old
native came along, and sent our men to his garden, which he pointed
out to us, for some green cocoa-nuts, so that we obtained a delicious
draught, which we found very refreshing after our hot walk. He was very
talkative, and begged a little brandy; and he also gladly accepted the
seeds of a fine pomolo (Citrus decumana), to plant in his garden. We
did not cross the stream here, but plunged on beside the river,
following a narrow, muddy buffalo track, which in places resembled a
tunnel, being completely embowered with tall grasses, bound together
with large convolvuli and other creeping and climbing plants.
A heavy walk of a couple of hours brought us to the first group of
Dusun houses, which stood on a bit of rising ground close beside
the stream, being surrounded by a grove of cocoa-nut palms and other
fruit-trees. We stayed here to rest our followers, and while waiting
shot several birds on the surrounding trees. Let not the gentle reader
blame us for wanton destruction! There was "method in our madness;"
we did not "kill for sport," but only for the advancement of learning,
or for food.
About half a mile beyond we came to a fording-place in the stream,
and descending the slippery clay banks, we crossed the river, which
in places reached up to our waists; and in one place the current
was rather too strong to be pleasant. Beaching the other side, our
way lay along an abandoned bed of the stream for some distance. The
old shingly bed was in some places quite thickly covered with Celosia
argentea, forming compact little bushes, two feet high, every branchlet
terminated by a rose-tipped spike of silvery bracts, forming, as seen
here, a very pretty object.
We reached the Dusan village of Bawang (bawang, in the Dusun dialect
= river) about four o'clock, after fording a creek up to our necks,
and indeed we were both tired and hungry. We took refuge in a house,
which stood on the bank, quite close to the river, and our men soon
had several fires ablaze on the pebbly beach below. We pulled off
our wet things, and enjoyed a bath in the bubbling stream, and then a
nice rub, dry and clean clothes, made us quite comfortable by dinner
time. "Bongsur," one of the bird hunters, brought in two or three very
pretty birds here; and Mr. Veitch added a black, red-bellied squirrel
("basing") to our collection.
We slept the sleep of the weary; and the following morning pushed on
up the slope beyond the village. The shady jungle through which we
passed ere we began to ascend was thickly carpeted with selaginellas,
S. Wallichii being especially luxuriant. S. caulescens drooped from
the moist rocks here and there very gracefully. We found the climbing
rather arduous work, and but for the shade of the overhanging bamboo,
which grows here plentifully, we should have fared worse.
On reaching the crest of the hill, an altitude of say 800 feet,
we got along better. At this height we found our first nepenthes,
a pretty green-pitchered form, swollen below, and having a broad,
flattened red rim to its mouth (N. Phyllamphora). We rested an hour
on the top, but could procure no water, excepting a few drops from
the cut end of a climbing plant, which the natives call "kalobit,"
and of which they sometimes form rough cordage, by rending it into
long strips. The juice of this plant is intensely bitter; but the
water which distilled itself slowly from the cut end was quite pure
and tasteless.
We ascended about 1500 feet to-day, and the views from the summit of
the range between Bawang and Si Nilau were very satisfying, all the
intervening country to the sea being plainly visible, as well as the
whole coast-line, as far as Gaya Bay. We walked along quicker than
usual, for the sky became very black, and it was evident that we
should soon have a drenching shower. Our guides had forgotten the
way to Si Nilau, and so there was nothing for it but to push on,
in the hopes of meeting with a shelter by the way.
At length we suddenly came upon the site of a deserted village,
and took shelter in a hut--a little better in repair than the
rest--while from the trees near both langsat fruit and cocoa-nuts
were procurable. Here we waited until the rain abated, when we took
up our quarters in the house of a Dusun man, near the site of the old
village, which had, as we afterwards heard, been deserted on account
of the death of the headman.
We had previously met our Dusun landlord about two miles from this
village, in some patches of rice and gourds, but he had been too
frightened to answer our inquiries as to the route, and rushed
down the hill just as the first few drops--big, heavy, solitary
drops--fell from the black rain-clouds over head. Fortunately, I had
struck the right road a few yards further on, and followed it up,
when in turning a rocky corner, where two roads merged into one,
I came across the man again face to face. He was so surprised at my
sudden reappearance, that he fairly shook with terror, and he rushed
down the rocky ledge, which served as a path around the hill-top,
with the speed of a startled deer. I had yelled after him to stop,
but he ran all the faster; and when afterwards we entered his house,
our men had a little trouble to reassure him that we meant him no harm.
We soon put the old boy at his ease, however; and then a fowl for our
dinner was caught and killed. For this and the fruit we had stolen
we paid him a fathom and a half of grey shirting, with which he was
very pleased. His house was a very neat one, having a large public
room in front, with a stove, hearth, or fire-place opposite the door,
and two little sleeping rooms behind. Like all Dusun houses the floor
was elevated four feet from the ground, level on piles, so that the
pigs and fowls had shelter beneath. The side walls and floors were
of bamboo, beaten or pressed out flat, like boards, and being of a
clear, yellow colour, they had a warm and comfortable appearance as
the fire glowed on the hearth, above which was a rack for the storage
of fire-wood, or on which clothes could be dried.
After dinner we lit our lamp, and made ourselves as cosy as possible
over our post-prandial cigar, after which we were not loath to turn
in. Up by daybreak, and snatching our morning meal, we were soon en
route for Kalawat Peak, and thence we descended to Kalawat village
by a rocky mountain-path, fringed with bamboos, large ginger-worts,
and ferns of various kinds.
A strong growing species of bauhinia was very showy here, overrunning
the branches of bushes and low trees beside the path, and bearing its
pale, yellow flowers in large clusters very profusely. As seen at
a distance it has a pleasing effect in the landscape--a rare thing
with Bornean flowers; and a nearer sight of it is suggestive of our
native woodbine.
Selaginellas were plentiful near the streams, and near the crest of
the Peak (alt. 2000 feet) we saw a dainty little bertolonia, rarely
exceeding two inches in height, having pearly-spotted leaves, and
terminal clusters of rosy-pink flowers. A stately habited nephrodium,
with gracefully arching light-green fronds, nearly a yard long, a
zingiberad, with richly barred foliage (Alpinia sp.), two or three
species of gleichenia, and now and then an inconspicuous epiphyte,
orchid, or fern occurred, to add variety to our route.
We were puzzled to-day by seeing horizontal bamboo-stems fixed in
the trees over our path, but we eventually discovered that they were
intended to serve as bridges or paths to rats or other animals, traps
being set to catch those who were unwary enough to avail themselves
of the convenient crossing.
A curious custom of the Dusun is to entrap and eat the common field
rats, wild cats, &c., of the country. Beside all the little paths
through the forest, near Kina Balu, wooden rat-traps (see Fig.) are
set in the herbage through which the animals have made their tracks. A
form of this trap, slightly modified, is hung on the branches of
trees for the capture of squirrels and other fruit-eating rodents. I
asked Kurow how long the Dusun had eaten rats? His reply was that,
"Once upon a time," a horde of rats, far more than ever followed
the 'Pied Piper,' I should judge by his adjectives, came and ate up
all the rice and kaladi. A conference was held by the then reigning
chief in the head house, and his advice was of the stern, practical
kind. "Talking is of no use," said he; "the rats have eaten all our
rice: we have no other food left to us; ergo, we must eat up the
rats!" "And so it was, and is to this day," said Kurow; but I fancied
I could see a sly twinkle in his bright eyes--just the same merry
twinkle one expects to see in anyone's face, after having related a
palpably improbable story with all due solemnity!
We pass several very pretty little rills, at which drinking or washing
was facilitated by spouts, made of the leaf-stalk of the sago palm,
and placed so as to conduct the cool sparkling water on a level with
one's face. Flourishing rice and kaladi fields became more plentiful;
and the tree ferns, which we had first sighted after leaving Si Nilau,
now became more numerous. Just ere we reached Kalawat, we noticed
some splendid specimens in the jungle; and now and then even out in
the clearings their great crowns of fresh green plumose fronds being
fully exposed to the sun, and in some cases borne aloft on slender
black trunks, 20 feet or more in height. At the village of Kalawat the
houses are in one place backed by an immense grove of these feathery
plumed tall tree ferns, above which the white stemmed betel-nut palm
towers aloft, its dark green foliage and pendent clusters of bright
orange fruit standing out clear and bright against the cool blue sky.
At Kalawat we rested awhile. The straggling dwellings were built on
piles over the muddy ground, and a few ill-fed black pigs were rooting
up turf in all directions in quest of food. Here, for the first time,
along this route, we were pleased to see tame bees hived in sections
of hollow tree trunks, about two feet in length, the top and bottom
being stopped up, and a hole burnt in the centre as an entrance
for the busy workers. In one or two cases separate little huts were
erected especially for the bees, but as a rule the hives were placed
on a board beneath the overhanging eaves of the houses. The kind of
bee kept is very small, much smaller than that common in England,
and I was struck at the peculiar manner in which they wriggled their
bodies simultaneously as they congregated in groups on the hive near
the entrance. These tame bees, as well as their wild brethren, who
nest in the tall forest trees, make but little honey in proportion
to that of our northern kinds, and are especially kept for the wax
they yield, this being used occasionally by the natives in the form
of rude candles, and it is also an article of export from Borneo.
Being in advance of our followers we waited here an hour. It is a
singular trait of the Borneans to show no curiosity when strangers pass
through their villages. We sat here on a rock for some considerable
time, and yet, not even the children came out to look at us. Two
men sitting outside on a verandah, basket-making, and an old woman,
were all the inhabitants we saw, but doubtless many a pair of bright
eyes watched us secretly through the cracks of the bamboo houses. As
it came on to rain, however, we entered one of the houses, in which
were seven or eight young men and several women. We tried to get
some fruit here, but the langsat were not ripe, and cocoa-nuts were
scarce owing to the flowering stems being cut off and the exuding sap
collected in a bamboo vessel to be made into toddy, a drink of which
the hill villagers are very fond. At last a couple of young nuts were
forthcoming, and a dash of brandy in each gave us a most refreshing
draught. As the rain ceased, we decided to proceed to Bungol, the
next village along our route. To this one of our guides, Pangeran
Raman of Labuan,--an artful old sweep--loudly objected, urging that
the Tawaran would be flooded--that we should not reach Bungol at all
that night, as it would be dark long ere we could do so--adding, that
there was no intervening resting-place. I was used to these excuses,
and determined to go on, to which Mr. Veitch also agreed. Our guides,
who had come here from Si Nilau, refused to go further, nor would any
of the Kalawat people go to Bungol with us as guides, but at last one
of them pointed out the right road for us to take, and I and Mr. Veitch
set out along the rocky path alone. We rested on the hill above the
village, and then Pangeran Raman and our two servants, or "boys,"
joined us, and said the men refused to come on. This did not deter us,
and we plunged down the hill-path and through one or two clearings,
in which sweet potatoes, maize, and tobacco grew luxuriantly. Then
down a greasy clay path, embowered with bamboos, tall canes and
jungle, until at last the Tawaran was reached in the valley below,
rushing and boiling among the smooth boulders in its bed.
We sat on the banks of the stream to rest. Here a pretty little palm
about a yard high formed strong tufts and patches, its roots being
laved by the stream below. Its pinnate leaves were graceful, and had
a distinct grassy appearance. Draping trees close by the river we
also found a species of vanilla in bloom. It had large waxy flowers
of a creamy white colour, the lip having a five-lobed hairy crest
of a dark purple-brown colour. As many as twenty buds were counted
in a cluster, but the flowers expanded one at a time. We crossed the
river, which nowhere exceeded our knees in height, and pushed on up
the next hill. The mist was gathering thick and white in the valleys,
and it began to rain in torrents. In a very few minutes the path
up the hill-side became a brook, and the rain beat in our faces so
that we could scarcely see our way. Added to this inconvenience was
the thought that we might not be in the right track, and of this our
worthy "guide," Pangeran Raman, could tell us nothing. He was a very
good fair-weather traveller, and the biggest man in our party when
all was well around a good camp fire! At a pinch, when most wanted,
he was perfectly useless--indeed, in the way. I am afraid I did not
pity him as he stood shivering in the cold, and begging piteously
of us to return to a miserable little hut beside the river for the
night. This was out of the question, as we had not a dry thread on
us and no food, so I pushed up the hill to reconnoitre. Just at the
top I met a Dusun man who had come from Bungol, and who was going
to Kalawat, and when Mr. Veitch and the old Pangeran came up, we
induced the native to return with us to Bungol. We now felt more at
ease, and splashed down the hill-side merrily, and after crossing the
Tawaran four times, in one place nearly to our necks, we reached the
cocoanut-crested hill on which the village of Bungol stands. Our "boys"
had lagged behind and only reached the houses just before night-fall,
having been mainly guided by the accidental discharge of our guns,
which we had let off in order to dry them soon after our arrival. Our
guide had brought us to his own house, and we soon had a good fire,
and took off our wet clothes, after which we sat by the fire clad in
native sarongs which our host lent us. We soon wrung out our clothes,
and hung them on a beam over the blazing fire to dry, and then came
the question of dinner. At last we procured a fowl and a bowl of rice,
and my Chinese "boy," Kimjeck, who was a good cook, soon had these
on the fire.
After it was dark we heard shouting, and soon after six of our men who
carried the food, clothes, and sleeping gear came in, being afraid,
as they said, that we should want food. We were soon all as jolly
as sandboys. The fowl was cut up and boiled with a tin of julienne
soup and three or four chilies, and this and a nice white bowl of
steaming rice formed a dish which to us, tired and hungry as we were,
seemed "fit for a king." A cup of chocolate and a cigar followed by
way of dessert, and all our troubles for the time being vanished in
smoke! We paid our guide a fathom of grey shirting, and gave him
a looking-glass for our night's lodging. The fowl and a couple of
cocoanuts also were paid for with a fathom of shirting, and everybody
was thus easily satisfied.
Having only a sleeping-rug each, we found it rather chilly, and I
could not sleep well. I rose about 11 o'clock, however, and made
up a good fire, and then lay down beside it and slept well until
daybreak. We had breakfasted in the morning and were outside ready
to start, when our laggards of yesterday came in, and they looked
sheepish and crestfallen when they found that we were really about
to start on and had not intended to have awaited their coming. Two
Dusun men now accompanied us as guides, and after crossing the Tawaran
several times, we mounted the hill to the left, crossing the ridge and
descending towards Koung. The way to the village was down rocky gutters
seemingly worn by heavy rains, and the hill-side paths in the kaladi
gardens were very bad to traverse, and we were thoroughly tired out ere
we reached the grassy flat on which Koung is built, indeed, this was
the most toilsome day's work we had hitherto had, although, perhaps,
our long tramp yesterday had something to do with its being so.
We found the Koung people peaceably inclined, although we did not
forget that it was here that Mr. Low and St. John had some difficulty
with the natives the first time they came this way. We slept well,
and in the morning after breakfast we retraced our steps by the
river to examine a scarlet flower which we had seen from the opposite
bank yesterday. It turned out to be Bauhinia Kochiana, or an allied
species. Mr. Veitch shot a fine white-headed hawk, which was on the
look out for a breakfast of fresh fish from the river. We also secured
several other birds we had not before seen. The red-fruited Rubus
rosæfolius was very pretty here among the rocks, and we observed one
or two orchids of interest on the trees overhanging the stream. The
river is very pretty as it passes the village, and as the water comes
from the hills above, it is deliciously clear and cool, quite a luxury,
in fact, either for drinking or bathing. We enjoyed our morning ramble,
and on returning to the house wherein we had slept we found all the
men ready to start for Kiau. On our crossing the ford at the end of
the village we met a large party of natives laden with baskets of
tobacco and a little beeswax, going on a trading expedition. There
were some women among them, who, of course, carried the heaviest
loads. Several of the men were tattooed on the breast and arms,
and all were armed with brass-handled parongs and slender-shafted
spears. They showed no surprise at seeing us, and passed on apparently
unconcerned as to our object. Our way now lay up the valley, first on
the right and then on the left of the river, but there was no great
difficulty in crossing, the water being rarely as high as the hips. We
passed huts here and there, and irrigated patches of rice. Maize and
sweet potatoes grew around the houses, and almost all had a clump of
big-leaved bananas near the door. The rice land was irrigated by a
ditch cut from the river, a little dam being made so as to direct the
water into it as required. We noticed several fish-traps set in the
river to-day. These are made of a bamboo stem six feet long, split
lengthwise and made into a long basket-like shape with rattans, so
that it is wide at top and narrow at the other end. In order to set
them effectively, an oblique dam of stones and earth is made so as
to direct a large body of water through an aperture, and in this the
basket is placed. A fish once washed into it has no chance of escape,
and large quantities are caught at times, especially after the river
is freshened by rains. Occasionally we saw men or women working on the
rice-land, and I was very much struck at the care taken in planting
and cultivating the crop, not a weed being anywhere visible in the
rice-patches. The planting was extremely regular, each tuft or stool
being about eight inches from its neighbours, so that all obtained
their due amount of earth, light, and air, a lesson indeed for some
of our own cultivators of cereals here at home.
We passed immense clumps of bamboo, the feathery wands rising in masses
to a height of fifty or sixty feet. From one of these clumps our men
secured some of the young crowns, which are white and tender, and by no
means despisable as a vegetable when boiled with salt. At Bawang I had
noticed them eating boiled fern-tops with their rice, and on asking for
a little I was surprised at its delicate spinach-like flavour. We met
a boy at one of the crossings with a basket of fine langsat fruit, some
of which we purchased, giving him a Chinese looking-glass in exchange.
At length, crossing the river for the last time, we rested in the shade
of a huge sandstone rock for a luncheon of cold rice and fruit. Our
path then lay to the left through low jungle, and on one or two of the
old remaining trees we noticed masses of Grammatophyllum speciosum
with stems eight feet in length--each plant a good cartload, and
evidently in the most luxuriant health, with foliage fresh and green,
although fully exposed to the hot sun. Coelogynes were plentiful on the
lower trees and rocks by the river. One sandstone boulder was entirely
covered with Davallia ciliata, and some fine tall grasses grew among
the pebbles of the old river bed. The rocks bordering the river are of
sandstone, and yet at Koung and along our route to-day we continually
met with boulders of granite sometimes in the present river bed,
sometimes on the old dry bed, and sometimes, as on the green Koung,
immense pieces, a hundred tons weight, lie isolated on the plain. Half
an hour's walk from our resting-place by the river brought us to the
clearings and the hill or dry rice-fields of the Kiau villagers. The
crop was ripening fast, and the whole hill-side, as well as the one
opposite beyond the river, looked very flourishing. Here and there
were green patches of kaladi, and around the field-huts of bamboo,
cucumbers clustered, and sweet potatoes, maize, and occasionally
bananas, looked prosperous. We followed a narrow footpath through
the rice, which was kept from injury by a little fence of bamboo,
and in places the earth was prevented from washing down by a few
large stones laid in line. We reached the village about two o'clock,
the journey from Koung having taken us about five hours. The people
here did seem to feel more interest than ordinary, and we soon had
a tolerably good audience around us. One by one our followers came
in, and we soon availed ourselves of the comfort of a rub over with
a towel and dry clothes, after which we arranged the various plants
collected during the day, and continued our journals. "Bongsur" brought
in a fine brown owl and a pretty scarlet bird with black wing-tips,
neither of which we had seen before. For dinner we had boiled fowl and
rice, followed by coffee and a cigarette of native tobacco wrapped in
maize-husk. We lay on our mats and rugs at one end of the large public
room, all our men being cooking and jabbering away to their hearts'
content, the Babel of sounds, partly Malay and partly Dusun, being
deafening. Tobacco was brought in for sale soon after our arrival,
and one man brought a fowl, but as he asked double its value we
refused to buy it.
The greatest interest was shown in all we did, more especially by the
boys and young girls who crowded on the pathway just in front of where
we lay. When we extinguished our lamp and turned into our blankets they
soon became quiet, the people of the house retiring to their private
apartments, and the others to their houses in the village. It was a
wet night, and we felt chilly, but slept well. Our first task after
breakfast in the morning was to overhaul all our stores, arranging
those we wanted on the mountain so that they could be easily carried,
and packing the rest so that they could be left with safety. Our
stock of rice was so low that we were rather alarmed, but "Musa"
assured us that he should be able to buy some in the village. After
re-arranging all our things, we took our guns and walked over the
hill. We saw very few birds, nor were the plants we discovered of any
particular interest, with the exception of a large white-flowered
arundina, having a rich amethyst-coloured lip. We saw some immense
ginger-worts, having leafy stems ten or twelve feet in height; also
large ferns of the angiopteris type, while Mikania volubilis overran
the bushes along our route.
Returning to the house, we engaged Boloung and Kurow, the acting
head men of the village, and six of their followers, to take us up
the mountain on the morrow. "Musa" and Pangeran Raman did most of the
bargaining on our side, and at length concluded the matter by paying
over the amount of cloth and brass wire as agreed. Next morning we
selected sixteen of our men and started for the mountain. In a rich
bit of shady forest on the other side of the Kiau ridge we found
the evergreen Calanthe macroloba, bearing spikes of white flowers
much larger individually than those of C. veratrifolia. A foliage
plant marked with silvery blotches above and crimson beneath was
also collected. Our road was a rough and tiring one of sloping
hill-side paths very wet and slippery, and in places blocked by
fallen trees. About one o'clock we reached a rushing stream, and our
guides brought us to a large overhanging rock, where they said we
must pass the night. It now began to rain heavily, so we at once told
the men to cut sticks and palm-leaves to lay on the ground where we
were to sleep, and over which we could spread our waterproof sheets
and rugs. This was soon done, and meanwhile our "boys" prepared
luncheon. We were disgusted at stopping thus early in the day, and
wished our guides to proceed when the rain abated, which however
they determinedly refused to do. To make the best of a bad bargain,
I and Mr. Veitch explored the forest above our camp, where we found
a pretty aroid with white blotched leaves, and another marbled with
silvery grey; also a variegated plant resembling an anæctochilus,
but which Professor Reichenbach tells me is the Cystorchis variegata
of Blume. This plant I had previously gathered in another locality
further south; indeed, it seems pretty generally distributed along the
north-west coast. Specimens of two or three delicate filmy ferns were
found near the streams; and at our camping-place, which we named the
"Sleeping Rock," the pretty little Adiantum diaphanum was plentiful,
and living plants were brought to England from this habitat.
About seven o'clock next morning we started on our upward journey. It
was hot work at first, but we could feel it perceptibly get cooler
after the first two or three thousand feet. At about four thousand
feet mosses are very plentiful, the finest species gathered being
Dawsonia superba, which fringed the path, but nowhere in great
plenty. A new white-flowered species of burmannia was also gathered,
and small-flowered orchids were seen. In one place a shower of
small scarlet rhododendron flowers covered the ground at our feet,
the plant being epiphytal in the trees overhead. It was very misty,
and the moss which covered every rotten stick, and the vegetation
generally, was dripping with moisture, and every sapling we grasped in
climbing upwards was the means of shaking a shower-bath on us from the
trees above. At about five thousand feet a dead and broken pitcher of
Nepenthes Lowi lying in the path led to the discovery of the plant
itself scrambling among the mossy branches overhead, its singular
flagon-shaped ascidia hanging from the point of every leaf. It is
a vigorous-habited plant, with bright green leathery leaves, the
petioles of which clasp the stem in a peculiar manner. The only
plants we saw were epiphytal on mossy trunks and branches, and we
searched for young plants diligently, but without success. All the
pitchers hitherto seen are cauline ones, and as the plant has never
yet been seen in a young state, it is an open question as to whether
the radical pitchers differ in shape or size, as is the case with most
other species. As we ascended higher, epiphytal orchids, especially
erias, dendrochilia, and coelogynes became more plentiful, and we
came upon a large-flowered rhododendron, bearing rich orange flowers
two inches in diameter, and twenty flowers in a cluster! It grew on
a dangerous declivity, and not one of our lazy men would venture to
get it for us. Such a prize, however, was too lovely to forego, and
after a wet scramble among the surrounding bushes, I secured it in
good condition. Two or three other species were seen in flower, but
none equal to it in its golden beauty. Casuarina trees became common,
and higher up these were joined by two or three species of gleichenias,
and a distinct form of dipteris. Phyllocladus also appeared, and a
glaucus-leaved dianella (D. javanica). Here also were two of the most
distinct of all rhododendrons, R. ericifolium and R. stenophyllum. On
open spaces among rocks and sedges, the giant Nepenthes Rajah began
to appear, the plants being of all sizes, and in the most luxuriant
health and beauty. The soil in which they grew was a stiff yellow
loam, surfaced with sandstone-grit, and around the larger plants
a good deal of rich humus and leaf débris had collected. The long
red-pitchered N. Edwardsiana was seen in two places. This plant,
like N. Lowii, is epiphytal in its perfect state, and is of a
slender rambling habit. Highest of all in the great nepenthes zone
came N. villosa, a beautiful plant, having rounded pitchers of the
softest pink colour, with a crimson frilled orifice, similar to that
of N. Edwardsiana. All thoughts of fatigue and discomfort vanished
as we gazed on these living wonders of the Bornean Andes! Here,
on this cloud-girt mountain side, were vegetable treasures which
Imperial Kew had longed for in vain. Discovered by Mr. Low in 1851,
dried specimens had been transmitted by him to Europe, and Dr. (now Sir
Joseph) Hooker had described and illustrated them in the Transactions
of the Linnæan Society, but all attempts to introduce them alive into
European gardens had failed. To see these plants in all their health
and vigour was a sensation I shall never forget--one of those which
we experience but rarely in a whole lifetime!
We reached the cave (altitude 9,000 feet) about three o'clock, wet
and hungry, but far from unhappy. Our first care was to light a fire,
which was not at all easy to do, since everything was dripping wet. We
secured a bit of dry wood at last, however, and by whittling thin
shavings from it with a knife, we managed to start a good fire, and
some of the men were directed to cut firewood; but so paralysed were
they by the wet and cold, that it was with the greatest difficulty that
we could persuade them to do this. Poor old "Musa" cut some wood and
made a floor to the cave, after which some brushwood and leaves formed
a substitute for a mattress. The next difficulty was to obtain water,
since the men we had sent to search for it returned empty handed,
having failed to find any. As a last resort I had to undertake this
duty myself, and, descending the hill-side, I found a tiny pool in
a gully, from which I procured a little in our cook-pots. It was not
near enough, however; and in wandering in search of more, I came upon
a patch of the large nepenthes, from the old pitchers of which I was
able to augment my supply by carefully pouring off the rain water
from a rather liberal under stratum of flies, ants, and other insect
débris. Our guides slept under a rock a little further on and higher
up the mountain side, and they found a stream from which good water
was procured by our men in the morning and during our stay here.
It commenced to rain heavily at nightfall, and we found it very cold,
although we kept a good fire burning nearly all night, one of the
results being that we were nearly blinded by the smoke, there being
a draught towards an opening at the hinder part of the cave. The wet
dripped from the roof all night, and the walls were also wet and
slimy; indeed our quarters were neither extensive nor luxurious;
still we made the best of them, and, after all, were rather sorry
to leave them at last. We arose at daybreak to collect plants and
roots, in the which we were tolerably successful; and before night
we had secured all our collections in baskets and bundles ready for
the men to carry down. It was very cool and misty in the morning,
but about noon it became clearer, and it was hot indeed, the rocks
and old trunks reeked in the sunshine. A slender-growing species
of calamus was very common in the low forest below the cave, and it
supplied "rattans" of excellent quality for tying up our plants. At
least three showy species of coelogyne grow on the rocks and mossy
banks here, at 9,000 feet elevation; and a dainty little plant with
reddish pseudo-bulbs in clusters, each bearing a single spathulate
dark green leaf, is common. This last has erect spikes of pure white
flowers and buds, reminding one of the lily of the valley in cool,
fresh purity, an effect partly due to its column being of a soft green
tint, like a speck in the interior of the blossom. The coelogynes
are very distinct and beautiful as seen here blooming among the
coarse sedges and shrubs. One has white flowers with a blotch of
gold on the lip, eight or ten of its waxy flowers being borne on an
erect scape. Another has yellow sepals and petals, and a white lip
corrugated with brown warts. Another, not so showy, has a nodding
spike of white and brown flowers.
We ascended about 9,000 feet, and were delighted with the charming
views obtainable during clear weather. The whole upper portion of the
mountain along the south and south-eastern slopes is nearly devoid of
vegetation, except where there are streams and rather sheltered gullies
up which the stunted trees and a few other plants struggle up near to
the summit. On the north-western side the rocks rise very precipitous;
and here vegetation fails to gain foothold. Looking upwards in the
early sunlight, we had clear views of the shelving granite slopes, on
which are numerous shallow channels down which streams of water pour
during misty and rainy weather. When we gained the top of the great
spur the morning after our arrival at the cave, we were delighted at
the immense panorama which lay at our feet as we looked back. Looking
away south-west we beheld the coast-line from the mouth of what our
guides said was the Tampassuk river right down to Gaya Bay and Pulo
Tiga, which was distinctly visible, the many-mouthed Menkabong river
glistening like a silver net quite close to the coast-line.
Looking south-east over a billowy sea of silvery clouds we saw
a gigantic range of mountains, and from this the conical peak of
Tilong rises through strata after strata of cloud, or stands out
on a clear blue background of pure sky, according to the state of
the atmosphere. This claims our interest as the beacon of a land
unknown; and this magnificent peak, Tilong, is by repute as high,
or even higher, than Kina Balu itself. Altogether we spent three
days on the sides of Kina Balu collecting plants, flowers, and seeds;
and after a life on the plains and among the coast mountains--hills
compared with this grisly giant--we found the climate most deliciously
cool and invigorating. Rain generally commenced about 3 P.M., and
continued until eight, the remainder of the night being clear, bright
if moonlight, and cool--so cool, indeed, as to make a good camp fire
and woollen shirts two or three-fold and blankets very desirable. The
mornings were generally misty, every leaf and branch dripping with
the rain and heavy dews common here at night, especially during the
wet season. About noon the sun was warm, and the temperature at 9,000
feet rises to 75° if the day is fine and dry.
As I have elsewhere said, our Malay followers suffered much from
what to them was bitter cold; indeed they seemed perfectly helpless,
with scarcely energy to make a fire and cook their food. They have no
notion of actively bestirring themselves in order to keep warm. Our
food supply, too,--that is, the rice--ran short, and so the men were
reduced to live on kaladi and sweet potatoes roasted in the embers and
eaten with a little salt. Our Dusan guides also complained of the cold,
and tried to hurry us in our descent; indeed at last they would wait
no longer, and they slipped away, leaving us to reach their village
alone as best we could. We were fully determined not to be defeated
in our object, however, and keeping ahead of our own men we descended
leisurely so as to gather plants by the way, until all had as much as
they could possibly carry down. I carried my servant's load in order
that he might carry a lot of rare specimens which I had secured for him
in a handkerchief. The descent after the rain of the night before was
difficult and dangerous, and we had a good many falls. Once I fell
down a steep place a depth of about twenty feet, among shrubs and
creepers, which saved me from serious injury. Mr. Veitch and myself,
my "boy," and a solitary Labuan man, went on a-head of our main party,
and just at nightfall discovered that we had lost our way. The right
path lay across a clearing down which we turned instead of pushing
across and striking the path beyond.
We floundered along in the gloaming down several dangerous steeps
and across a rocky stream, in crossing which I stepped incautiously
on a slippery water-worn boulder, and became thoroughly submerged
in the water, which being from the heights above is icy cold,
at least it seems so after one has been used to the heat of the
tropics. This increased my discomfort, and poor Mr. Veitch was but
little better. Here we were at dark lost and benighted beside the
rocky declivities of this mountain stream; but there was no help
for it; and after vainly trying to strike a path, we gave up at the
base of a large tree, and putting down our burdens, we resolved to
pass the night here. To mend matters, it commenced to rain heavily
about seven o'clock, and I am afraid we were not so happy as the mere
possession of health and strength ought to have made us. We had no
food except a couple of wet biscuits and about half a glass of brandy
in a flask. These we shared, and perhaps they were sweeter than the
choicest viands would have tasted had we been in dress clothes and in
comfortable quarters. Then Mr. Veitch had a great find in his bag--a
couple of cigars and a box of matches. Sitting in the smoking-room
of a comfortable club, or in the billiard-room at home, one may smile
at such a discovery; but, situated as we were, cold and wet, a cigar
added much to our comfort. Our two followers tried to make a little
shelter from the rain for themselves, but failed miserably.
About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and we then tried to improve our
position; for hitherto all we could do was to walk about around a
large tree--a distance of a few yards only; for in the darkness we
knew not what ugly falls might not await us if we strayed from our
wretched camping-ground, which was wet and spongy under foot; and the
leeches crawled up our legs and bled us to their hearts' content. We
noticed luminous fungi on the rotten sticks at our feet glowing quite
brightly, and the effect was weird and ghostly in the extreme. My
"boy," quite by accident, had placed a couple of dry flannel shirts,
a pair of trowsers, and a blanket, in the other man's basket, and
so, after the rain ceased, I was able to put on a dry warm shirt and
trowsers, a luxury I had not expected, and also to give Mr. Veitch a
dry shirt and a share of my rug. We now sat down on some brushwood,
and leaning back against the tree, fell asleep, and we did not wake
until near sunrise. Thus ended one of the most dreary nights I ever
spent in the Bornean woods.
In the morning we retraced our steps across the rocky stream,
and soon struck the right path for Kiau, but we had not gone far
before we met "Kurow," the chief of our runaway guides, in a great
state of excitement, coming in search of us. He brought us some fine
langsat fruit in his bag--presumably a peace offering--and seemed
rather surprised that we did not chide him for his desertion of the
day before. As we arrived nearer the village we came across our men,
armed with muskets, also in search of us, and the hilltop was covered
with Kiau people, who appeared greatly concerned, and doubtless glad
to see us safe and well.
When we reached the house, everybody seemed glad to see our safe
return, and sweet potatoes, maize, rice, and kaladi, were readily
brought in by the villagers for ourselves and our men. "Musa" and the
rest of our followers had arrived at Kiau soon after dark the night
before. One man brought a basket of excellent langsat fruit, and a
woman gave us two beautiful oranges from a tree near her door. They
were quite yellow, with tender skins and sweet pulp, similar to those
of the south of Europe, not green skinned, with tough desepiments,
as are those of Labuan. I was much surprised at the oranges having
grass-green skins when perfectly ripe in Singapore, and even the
brittle skinned Mandarin variety had this peculiarity.
Our guide, "Kurow," was twitted pretty much by his neighbours for
having left us the day before, and at last he retired to his house
evidently not well pleased with himself, and, I believe, not a little
surprised at our treating the matter so lightly.
We went out to a shady spot near the house to examine our plants and
see that they were in good order, and we then rested all day. We were
not altogether satisfied with our trip to the mountain, and resolved
to start off to it again in the morning, but this time taking another
path so as to reach the "Marie Parie" spur. We sent off for "Kurow,"
and, telling him our intentions, asked him to collect his followers
and be in readiness to accompany us. The poor fellow was delighted at
this sign of our confidence in him, and helped us zealously, enduring
cold, rain, and waiting--to him meaningless, weary waiting--without
a murmur. In the morning we crossed the hill behind the village, and
fording the "Haya-Haya," "Dahombang," "Pino-Kok," and "Kina Takie"
streams, we reached the foot of the "Marie Parie" spur.
Now came a climb up a rocky pathway, besides which we noticed
fine plants of Cypripedium Petreianum, Cystorchis variegata, and a
lovely yellow flowered terrestrial orchid belonging to the genus
Spathoglottis, but quite distinct from S. aurea. As we ascended,
our path lay up through a belt of tall bamboos, and here two species
of nepenthes were seen. One was the long, green pitchered kind,
covered with purple blotches (N. Boschiana var. Lowii), and the
other a tall growing species, bearing beautiful white pitchers,
elegantly ewer-shaped, diaphanous like "egg shell" porcelain, and
most daintily blotched with reddish crimson in a way quite unlike
any other variety. This grew on both sides of the path, and climbed
the trees to a height of forty or fifty feet. We reached the crest
of the ridge about three o'clock, in a heavy drenching shower,
the climate being similar to that of a warm autumn evening in a
Devonshire wood. We slept under some overhanging rocks at an elevation
of about 4,000 feet, having an under stratum of sticks and brushwood
to keep our water-proof sheets off the wet ground. The air, even at
this low elevation, was chilly during the night, and we found a fire
and blankets acceptable comforts. Melastoma macrocarpa, bearing its
large, rosy flowers, formed a large proportion of the brush around
our camping ground. Here the large nepenthes were very fine; and a
beautiful white flowered dendrobium grows among the bushes. It belongs
to the nigro hirsute section, and has pseudo-bulbs five or six feet
high. The blossoms are described by Mr. Low as being similar to those
of D. formosum giganteum, but with a deep orange red blotch on the lip.
Just above our camping ground, the long, red, pitchered Nepenthes
Edwardsiana was very beautiful, growing up through the low jungle,
its pitchers contrasting with the tufts of rich green moss which
draped trunks and branches everywhere. N. Rajah was also abundant;
and we noticed some immense urns depending from its great broad
leaves, far finer, indeed, than those found at 9,000 feet elevation,
on the more southern spur. That distinct and curious fern, Lindsaya
Jamesonioides, grew here and there in the chinks of the serpentine
rock, and a long-leaved insect-catching sundew (Drosera) was common
in most places among the stones and herbage.
After collecting what plants we desired, we had breakfast, and then
commenced our return. We reached Kiau in about five hours, but some
of our men did not come in until long after our arrival, as they had
heavy loads to carry, and the clay paths were very slippery. At Kiau
village, and on the slopes of the mountain itself, we spent eight
days, and then came the weary march back to Gaya Bay, which, however,
we accomplished in six days. When we reached the Datu's village, he
gave us a fine goat, which our "boys" promptly slew for dinner, and,
being young, it had a delicate mutton-like flavour, and we thought
it a great treat after our hard fare.
A present of a revolver and some cartridges delighted our host; and
the next morning, having obtained another boat, and loaded the one
we had, we pulled to Pangeran Rau's place, where we hired a prahu,
and two days afterwards reached Labuan safely.
During our journey to and from the mountain, we met occasional
parties of natives from the far interior on their trading excursions,
the women, as a matter of course, carrying the heaviest loads, while
the men carried nothing, save a little food in a bag behind them, and
their arms. Some had buffaloes with them. The women, as a class, are
strong and healthy, with small hands and feet, and well-proportioned
features--indeed, in many cases, the young girls are very pleasing
in face and figure, and have lovely black hair, and the brightest of
expressive black eyes. Early marriages, childbearing, hard labour, and
exposure in the fields, however, soon make shrivelled leather-skinned
old hags of them. Their drapery is nothing worth mentioning, and
in such a climate but little is required. Their manners are gentle
and dignified--often when we met them quite suddenly they showed no
surprise, even though they had never seen a white man before. They
make affectionate wives, and tender mothers--indeed, I never saw a
child beaten or chided roughly during my stay in the island.
In the capital and elsewhere on the coast, young Malay women are
almost invariably kept secluded from the gaze of strangers; but here
among these hills inland, as elsewhere among the aboriginals proper,
we found the women enjoying perfect freedom with the men.
While staying at these villages, all the women and girls flocked to
see us, and watched us eat and drink with evident interest. The young
girls were especially confident, and formed laughing groups around
us, chatting to each other in low, modulated tones, and evidently
comparing notes on their observations. They frequently brought us
little presents of fruit, and eggs, or fowls, and were delighted with
the needles and thread, looking-glasses, and white cloth which we
gave them in return. Some of the younger girls were much handsomer
than the Malays, and stood lovingly together as they quizzed us,
often resting their plump little arms or their cheeks on each other's
necks or shoulders as they watched our every movement.
Looking-glasses were considered fashionable at the time of our visit,
and we could have disposed of many more with advantage had we had them
with us. Combs were not so desirable, since these are made by their
husbands or sweethearts; and they are often very prettily decorated
with carved work.
Some of the men seem "thoroughly domesticated," and I saw them
affectionately nursing their naked little babies at night, or in the
daytime, while mamma had gone to the field for food, or the forest for
fuel. I particularly noticed the younger married men standing behind
their nice little wives at night when we were at dinner. They folded
their brown arms around their necks, and whispered loving gossip into
their ears, evidently well contented with themselves and with each
other; and, perhaps, their love is as real and as ardent and as true
here as it is in high places where dress clothes are worn. The farther
one travels, the more plainly does one see how deep rooted and how
world-wide are all the springs of human feeling, whether of love and
joy, or death and sadness; in every land and in every breast is written
the great truth, "One touch of nature makes the whole world kin."
One night after dinner a bevy of dusky beauties had gathered around
our mats, and to afford some amusement, I showed them several carte de
visite portraits of friends which I had with me. They were particularly
interested in that of one lady, and examined it very attentively;
not a bead or button escaped their quick eyes; but they soon began
asking questions. Was she married? How many children had she? Was she
a good wife? I asked what they meant by the last question. "Well,"
they answered, "did she bring plenty of firewood and kaladi in? and
could she clean padi (rice) well?" Thus a woman among these thrifty
villagers earns her good name as a wife by her capacity for physical
labour. This is also so among other savage races. The Indian girls
on the north-west coast of North America in like manner endeavour
to excel each other in the quantity of quamash (Camassia esculenta)
roots they collect, their fame as future good wives depending on
their activity in the Quamash plains. They were much interested in
all particulars of dress as shown by the carte; but one girl regretted
the absence of rattan coils around the stomach and "chawats" of thick
brass wire on the wrists, and more to the like effect, all from the
Kiau standpoint--for Kiau and its simple fashions are held to be
inviolable. Kiau is all the world to them!
The morning we left, I believe all were sorry to part with us, and
they came to the top of the hill to see us off. On loading our men, we
found that we had four men's loads of plants more than our men could
carry, and so we engaged some of the Kiau villagers to carry them
for us as far as Bawang. We had a good deal of talking, and a grand
display of red cloth and brass wire on the hillside, but eventually
"Musa" concluded the bargain, and paid over the goods in advance,
as is the general custom here.
After receiving the goods, they coolly told us they should not go on
with us, as we walked very slow, but that they would start next day,
adding, that they should reach Bawang before we did. We showed no
signs of wishing otherwise, but passed on with our followers, after
having told the Kiau men to water the plants well as they crossed the
streams, and to protect them from the sun by means of large leaves,
all of which they did; and when we reached Bawang, there, sure enough,
were our plants, all safe and in good condition.
After reaching Labuan, both Mr. Veitch and myself had bad attacks
of intermittent fever, the result of chilling exposure in wet
clothes, and ill-cooked food, accompanied by more than ordinary
exertions. Fortunately our long and difficult journey had been
interrupted by nothing serious, and we were glad to see our native
followers safe home again. Certainly one of them had a nasty fall
from a rocky path near Bawang and cut his head badly, but he was
a plucky Brunei man, and soon overgot his trouble. Another of our
fellows who had been trusted with a musket tried to fire it off
after he had blocked up the barrel by pushing it into the ground
accidentally! He succeeded in exploding the thing, and one of the
fragments cut open his forehead, while another piece struck one of
the bird-hunters on the arm. No serious damage was done. The road
from Gaya Bay to Koung is so hilly and difficult for loaded men to
traverse, that I determined that if ever I went to Kina Balu again I
would take the Tampassuk route. This I did on a subsequent occasion,
but during the wet season, when fording, the swollen rivers presented
great difficulties and dangers. During the dry season, or say, in
January or February, this route would be by far the best to follow.