IN FOG AND DARKNESS--A RAID BY ANTS--DEPARTURE FROM LONG PELABAN--AN
EXCITING PASSAGE--RETURN TO TANDJONG SELOR
During April and the first half of May the weather was warm with very
little rain, though at times thunder was heard at a distance. But during
the second half of May thunder and lightning in the evening was the usual
occurrence, with an occasional thunder-clap at close quarters. At night it
rained continually though not heavily, but this was accompanied by a dense
fog which did not clear away until nine o'clock in the morning. When the
dark clouds gathered about sunset, it was not with exactly cheerful
feelings that I anticipated the coming night. My tent stood at a little
distance from the rest of the camp, for the reason that solitude at times
has its charms. When the lamp outside the tent door was extinguished, and
all was enveloped in darkness and fog to an overwhelming degree, a feeling
of loneliness and desolation stole over me, though it soon left me when I
thought of the glories of the coming day, when all the rain would be
forgotten.
Shortly after sunset one evening scores of thousands of ants descended
upon me while supper was in progress. In the dim light afforded by the
lamp I had not perceived their approach until I felt them around my feet.
Upon looking about, I discovered to my astonishment that the floor, which
had a covering of closely set bamboo stalks, was black with ants and that
regiments of them were busily climbing up my bed. Coming in such immense
numbers and unannounced, their appearance was startling. Outside the soil
seemed to move. Twice before I had received visits from these ants but had
prevented their entering the tent by pouring hot water over them. The pain
caused by their bite is severe, although of short duration, and they are
therefore feared by the Dayaks and Malays.
By liberal application of hot water and burning paper on the ground we
finally succeeded in driving the unwelcome visitors out of the tent; but
new hordes were constantly arriving, and we battled for two hours before I
could retire, carrying many bites as souvenirs. None were then in the tent
and next day not a trace of them remained. The Chinese photographer had
been there twenty minutes before the raid began and had not noticed even
one ant. The attack began as suddenly as it ceased.
My stay on the Kayan River had been interesting as well as profitable.
Twice during that period requests had come from the government for Dayaks
willing to join a Dutch enterprise operating in northern New Guinea, and
the chances of my securing sufficient men on this river for my expedition
were evidently gone. However, with the assistance of the government I felt
sure there would be no difficulty in securing them from other rivers of
Dutch Borneo, but I deemed it wise to begin my return trip.
The river was now so swollen that it was difficult to effect a departure,
and current report indicated that if the rain continued it might be
necessary to wait a month before the rapids below could be passed. I had
all my belongings packed in order to be ready to start whenever it was
found advisable to do so. While waiting I went over to the kampong to
kinematograph two dancing girls who the day before, owing to their
bashfulness, had detained us so long that the light became inadequate. At
last the river fell about a metre during the night, and the chief and his
brother called on me early in the morning to suggest that our best plan
would be to start in the middle of the day.
Only a couple of hours are consumed in going to Long Pangian from here, on
account of the downward course of the river, which forms rapids and
currents at frequent intervals. As the men appeared disinclined to go, the
posthouder of Long Pangian, who then was with me, crossed the river and
gave the necessary impetus to action. Soon a big prahu was hauled by many
men down the bank to the river; this was followed by others, taken from
their storage place under the house, and shortly afterward we had
facilities for departure. Most of the boats were medium-sized; mine was
the largest, about seven and a half metres long, but so unsteady that the
luggage was loaded with difficulty. As usual my prahu carried the most
valuable articles, the photographic outfit, scientific instruments, etc.,
all of which was finally secured by tying rattan over it from side to
side. Naturally, fewer men are needed going down a river than coming up,
and I had only four.
At two o'clock in the afternoon a start was made and we proceeded rapidly
down-stream. The man standing at the bow is the commander, not the one
that steers with his paddle at the stern, and it appeared to be their
custom always to take the boat where the current was strongest and the
water most turbulent. It seemed reckless, but my prahu, heavily laden,
acted admirably, shooting through the waves without much exertion. After
nearly an hour of refreshing passage we approached the main rapid, Kiham
Raja. I kept behind the rest of the fleet, in order, if possible, to get a
snap-shot. In the beautiful light of the afternoon the prahus afforded a
splendid sight as, at short intervals, they passed along one after
another, the first ones already considerably lower than mine. My Kenyahs,
all standing, seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do, and we
moved along rapidly. Without a moment's hesitation we shot down the kiham.
This time they did not choose the place where the waves ran highest, and
we quickly slipped down the rapid, turbulent current, while the big waves
on our right threatened to engulf our craft.
As usual, it was difficult to get away from Long Pangian, but the
posthouder exerted himself to the utmost, and after a few days we were
ready to leave for Tandjong Selor. To a large prahu that we had obtained
we had to lash a log on either side to keep it steady. I found that the
Kenyah prahus in these parts usually are unstable. One Dayak that had been
loading mine in stepping ashore tipped it to such a degree that two large
green waterproof bags containing clothing, blankets, etc., fell overboard.
They floated well and were recovered.
Having finally put mats on upright saplings over the boats, as shade
against the sun and protection against rain, we were off, but it was not
altogether a pleasant two days' journey. My heavily laden prahu, having
been out of use for some time, leaked badly, so one of the five men had
all he could do to throw out the water which poured in through the holes
of the rattan fastenings. The man who was bailing sat opposite me in the
middle section, and for want of space I had to hold my feet up, with one
leg resting on either side of the prahu. I wore a pair of London Alpine
boots with thick soles and nails, weighing eight pounds, which I had found
too heavy for walking, but which were excellent for wear in wet boats.
When, in order to change my uncomfortable position, I placed both legs on
one side, the edge of the prahu nearly touched the water and the Dayaks
would cry out in warning. I have not on other rivers in Borneo met with
prahus quite as cranky as these. At the Bugis settlement I bought fifty
delicious pineapples at a very moderate price and distributed them among
us.