CHAPTER X

The Return From Dobodura.

Horrible Fate of one of our Enemies--Collecting in

Cannibal--Haunted Forest--I Shoot a new Kingfisher, and a Bird

of Paradise--Natives' Interest in Bird-Stuffing--Return Journey

begun--Tree-house in a Notu Village--Peacemaking Ceremonies--Notu

Village described--Our Allies sentenced for Cannibalism--Parting

with Walsh and Clark.

We decided to return, and sent off a strong body of police in advance

to surprise some of the surrounding villages. On the way back we found

the man who was brained by one of our carriers still breathing. He

was a ghastly sight, with his brains projecting out, and he was being

eaten alive by swarms of red ants, which almost hid his body and found

their way into his eyes, ears and nose. By the convulsions that from

time to time shook the man's body, he was evidently still conscious,

but could not possibly have lived for more than a few hours at most,

after our thus finding him. New Guinea, like most tropical countries,

had its full share of these pests (ants), some species of which

actually make webs, and, by way of supplementing the web itself,

work leaves in.

Acland, who had been suffering all day long from bad fever, now

collapsed and could walk no further, but had to be carried in a

hammock. When we got back to our old camping ground, I took an armed

guard of police and went in search of birds for my collection, in the

adjoining forest, and shot a new kingfisher (_Tanysiptera_) and a bird

of paradise (_Paradisea intermedia_). It was rather exciting work,

as one went warily through the thick growth, from whence might issue

a spear any minute, and I held on to my rifle all the time, except,

of course, when I saw a bird, and then I made a quick change to my

shotgun, lest I should prove a case of the hunter hunted.

On my return I had a large crowd of carriers around me watching me

skin my birds, while Arigita explained everything to them in lordly

fashion, only too pleased to get the chance of being listened to,

while he expounded to them his superior knowledge. What he told them

I, of course, could not tell, but he informed me that when I put the

final stitch in the nostrils of the birds, my audience declared that

I did this to prevent the birds from breathing and so one day coming

to life again. When the wise Arigita asked them how this could be,

since they had seen me take out the body and brains, they scoffed at

him and said that spirits would come inside the skins so that they

could sing again.

Monckton, meanwhile, had made a raid on the native gardens and brought

in quite a lot of taro. The police had killed several more Doboduras,

and in one place they had quite a fight. Our old man prisoner escaped

in the night, although he was handcuffed.

We returned to the coast the next day, as there seemed no chance of our

coming to terms with these Doboduras. Our only chance would have been

to defeat them in a big engagement. They seemed too frightened of us

to stand up for a big fight, but hid themselves in the bush, and were

thus hard to get at. We left ten police behind to trap the natives,

and, thinking we had left, a few of them returned to the village,

and the police shot four more of them and soon caught up with us,

bringing in the shields, stone clubs and spears of the slain.

During both these expeditions we had killed a good many of these

people, and it ought to be a lesson to them to leave the Notus alone

in future, although there is little doubt that the Notus themselves

make cannibalistic raids on some of their weaker neighbours. I did

not like the looks of the Notus, and they, as well as the Doboduras,

have a most repellent type of features, and look capable of any

kind of cruelty and treachery. They are very different from the

gentle-looking Kaili-kailis.

The sea was very rough, and it was exciting work launching the

canoes. One was thrown clean out of the water by a breaker. The

majority of the carriers and half the police went round by the beach,

but we in the two whaleboats had some exciting moments in the rough

sea, though with the sails up we made good progress. We passed two

of the canoes partially wrecked, and apparently in great difficulties.

We eventually landed long after dark in Eoro Bay, some distance the

other side of the large Notu village, near which we had previously

camped. We landed opposite a good-sized village belonging to the

Notu tribe, from which all the inhabitants fled on our approach. We

wandered about the village with flaming torches, looking out for huts

to pass the night in, as it was too late to pitch camp. But unhappily

the huts were full of lice, and it was impossible to get any sleep.

I saw here for the first time one of the curious native tree houses. It

was high up in a tall pandanus tree, and had a very odd appearance. We

spent the whole of the next day in this village, while our carriers

brought in and mended their canoes. They, too, had a very rough time

of it, but no lives were lost.

During the day I witnessed a very interesting ceremony, which I

take the liberty of describing in Monckton's own words, given in his

report to the Government. He says: "October 7th. Found that some of

the mountain people had been out to Notu and wished to make peace

with them. The Notu people had also ascertained that the Dobodura

had retreated into the large sago swamp, and were quite certain that

they had no danger to fear from them for some time to come. They

also said that after the police had departed they would very likely

be able to re-establish their ancient friendly relations with the

Dobodura. A peace-offering was brought from the mountain people,

which the Notu people asked me to receive for them. The ceremony was

strange to me, and had several peculiar features. Two minor chiefs

came to where I was sitting and sat down. About twenty men then

approached and drove their spears into the ground in a circle with

the butts all leaning inwards. Many of the spears had a small piece

broken off at the butt end. From these spears were then hung clubs,

spears and shields, and native masks and fighting ornaments. An old

chief then said they had given me their arms. Next they placed cloth,

fishing nets and spears and other native ornaments inside the circle,

and the same old chief said they had given me their property. After

this ten pigs, five male and five female, were brought and placed

inside the ring with a quantity of sago and a little other food. Then

followed cooking vessels full of cooked food. The old chief then said,

'We have given you all we have as a sign we are now the people of the

Government.' I gave them a good return present, and told them that

they were at liberty to take any articles they wanted or their pigs

back again, but this they absolutely refused to do, saying that it

would destroy the effect of what they had done. The female prisoners

were now sent back to Dobodura with a message to the Dobodura, that

I should return in a few months and make peace with them, should they

in the meantime refrain from murdering the coastal people, but should

they persist in their raiding I should return and handle them still

more severely." In return we gave them presents of axes, knives,

beads, tobacco, etc., which were laid down on the top of each pig.

Monckton very kindly presented Acland and myself with all the clubs,

native masks, "tapa" cloth and ornaments, and the pigs and other food

came in very useful for our police and carriers, as our rice supply

was getting low.

This was a very picturesque village, shaded by thousands of coconut

and betel nut palms and large spreading trees, among which was a very

fine tree, with very beautiful green and yellow variegated leaves

(_Erythrina_ sp.). There was also a great variety of _dracænas,_

striped and spotted with green, crimson, white, pink and yellow.

In most of these villages there were many curious kinds of

trophies--crossed sticks, standing in the middle of the village,

with a centre pole carved and painted in various patterns, and with

a fringe of fibre placed near the top. Hanging on these sticks were

the skulls and jawbones of men, pigs and crocodiles. I went out in

the afternoon with gun and rifle, and saw several wallabies, but

could not get a shot at them on account of the tall grass.

In the evening the chiefs of the large Notu village who had in our

absence killed and eaten the two runaway carriers, visited us in

fear and trembling. Monckton told them they must give up to us the

actual murderers and send them up to the residency at Cape Nelson

(or Tufi) within the next three weeks. He did not ask for those

that ate them. Possibly one hundred or more partook of the feast,

and for this they could hardly be blamed, as, being cannibals, it

is quite natural that they should eat fresh meat when they got the

chance. Indeed, our own carriers could not understand why we would

not allow them to eat the bodies of those we had slain.

The next morning we five white men parted company, Walsh and Clark,

with the Mambare and their own police, returning to the north,

while Monckton, Acland and I went southward again to continue our

explorations in another direction.

PART V

Our Discovery of Flat-Footed Lake Dwellers.

CHAPTER XI

Our Discovery of Flat-Footed Lake Dwellers.

Rumours at Cape Nelson of a "Duckfooted" People in the

Interior--Conflicting Opinions--Views of a Confirmed Sceptic--Start

of the Expedition--Magnificence of the Vegetation--Friendliness

of the Barugas--The "Orakaibas" (Criers of "Peace")--Tree-huts

eighty feet from the ground-Loveliness of this part of the

Jungle--Description of its Plants--A Dry Season--First Glimpse

of Agai Ambu Huts--Remarkable Scene on the Lake--Flight of the

Agai Ambu in Canoes--Success at Last--A Voluntary Surrender--The

Agai Ambu Flat-footed, not Web-footed--Sir Francis Winter's

subsequent Visit and fuller Description of these People--Their

Physical Appearance, Houses, Canoes, Food, Speech and Customs--My

Account Resumed--Making Friends with the Agai Ambu--A Country

of Swamps--Second Agai Ambu Village--Extraordinary Abundance

and Variety of Water-fowl--Strange Behaviour of an Agai Ambu

Women--Disposal of the Dead in Mid-lake Food of the Agai

Ambu--Their Method of Catching Ducks by Diving for them--An

Odd Experience--Mosquitos and Fever--Last View of Agai Ambu--An

Amusing _Finale._

Many were the wild and fantastic rumours we had heard at the Residency

at Cape Nelson, on the north-east coast of British New Guinea,

concerning a curious tribe of natives whose feet were reported to be

webbed like those of a duck, and who lived in a swamp a short way in

the interior, some distance to the north of us. I myself had at first

been inclined to sneer at these reports, but Monckton, the Resident

Magistrate, with his superior knowledge of the Papuans, as the natives

of New Guinea are called, was sure that there was some truth in the

reports, as the Papuan who has not come much in contact with the

white man is singularly truthful though guilty of exaggeration.

I knew this, but I had in mind the case of the Doriri tribe, who

lived in the interior a little to the south of us. These Doriri

(who had had the kindly forethought to send us word that they were

coming down to pay us a visit to eat us, for the Papuan, though a

savage, is often most suave and courteous and by no means lacking

in humour), were reported to us as having many tails, but needless

to say when we made some prisoners, we were scarcely disappointed

to find that the said tails protruded from the back of the head (in

much the same fashion as the Chinaman's pigtail); in this case each

man had many tails, which were fashioned by rolling layers of bark

from a certain tree--closely allied, I believe to the "paper tree"

of Australia--round long strands of hair.

We three white men had many a long talk as to whether these

swamp-dwellers were worth going in search of, but I soon came round to

Monckton's way of thinking. Acland, alone, however, maintained to the

last that the whole thing was a myth, and jokingly said to Monckton:

"When you find these duck-footed people, you had better see that Walker

does not take them for birds, and shoot and skin a couple of specimens

of each sex and add them to his collection." (For my chief hobby in

this and many other countries all over the world consisted in adding

to my fine collections of birds and butterflies in the old country.)

As we three, with our twenty-five native police and four servant

boys, rowed up the Barigi River in our large government whaleboat,

on our way to search for these "duck-footed" people, I could not help

being struck with the very great beauty of the scene. Giant trees

laden with their burden of orchids, parasites and dangling lianas,

surrounded us on both sides, their wide-spreading branches forming

a leafy arcade far over our heads, while palms in infinite variety,

intermixed with all sorts of tropical forms of vegetation, and rare

ferns, grew thickly on the banks.

Some distance behind us came our large fleet of canoes, bearing our

bags of rice and over one hundred carriers, and as they paddled down

the dark green oily waters of this natural arcade, with much shouting

and the splashing of many paddles, it made a scene which is with me

yet and is never to be forgotten. As we proceeded, the river got more

narrow, and fallen trees from time to time obstructed our way. We at

length landed at a spot where we were met by a large number of the

Baruga tribe, who brought us several live pigs tied to poles, and

great quantities of sago, plantains and yams. They had expected us,

as we had camped in their country the previous night. They had been

"licked" into friendliness by Monckton, who less than a year ago (as

elsewhere mentioned) had sunk their canoes, and together with the aid

of the crocodiles, which swarm in this river, had annihilated a large

force of them. And now to show their friendliness they were prepared

to do us a good turn, by helping us to find these duck-footed people,

with whom (they told us) they were well acquainted.

Oyogoba, the chief of the Baruga tribe, came to meet us. He assured us

of the friendliness of his people, and himself offered to accompany

us. His arm had been broken in the encounter with Monckton and his

police, and Monckton had immediately afterwards set it himself. It

now seemed quite sound.

We soon resumed our journey, on foot, passing through very varied

country, plains covered with tall grass and bounded by forest,

through which at times we passed. At other times we had to force our

way through thick swamps in which the sago-palm abounded, from the

trunks of which the natives extract sago in great quantities.

About mid-day we arrived at a fair-sized village belonging to the

Baruga tribe. It was surrounded by a tall stockade of poles, and as

we entered it, the women sitting in their huts greeted us with their

incessant cries of "orakaiba, orakaiba" (peace). On this account the

natives of this part of New Guinea are generally termed "Orakaibas"

by other tribes.

The houses here seemed larger and better built than most Papuan houses

that I had hitherto seen, and there were many curious tree-houses

high up among the branches of some very large, trees in the village,

some being fully eighty feet from the ground. They had broad ladders

reaching up to them, and looked very curious and picturesque. These

ladders are made of long rattans from various climbing palms. These

rattans, of which there were three double strings, are twisted in

such a way as to support the pieces of wood which form the steps. In

one case a ladder led from the ground in the usual way to a house

built in a small tree about thirty feet from the ground, but a second

ladder connected this house with another one in a much larger tree

about eighty feet off the ground. I climbed the first ladder, but

the second one swayed too much.

These tree-houses axe built partly as look-out houses, from which the

approach of the enemy is discovered, and partly as vantage points

from which the natives hurl down spears at their opponents below

when attacked.

Resuming our journey, after a brief halt in this village, we soon

came to the Barigi River again, which we crossed, camping in a small

deserted village close by. Here I noticed several more tree-houses in

the larger trees. This had been a very hot day, even for New Guinea,

and I could not resist taking a most refreshing bathe in the river,

though I must confess I was glad to get out again, having rather a

dread of the crocodiles, which infest parts of this river, though

they were not nearly so numerous up here as in the lower reaches of

the river which we had traversed in the morning.

We were up the following morning before sunrise, and were all

much excited at the prospect before us of discovering this curious

tribe. This day would show whether or no our journey was to prove

fruitless. Soon after leaving the village we entered a dense forest,

the growth of which was wonderfully beautiful. Tall _pandanus_

trees, some of them supported by a hundred and more long stilted

roots, which rose many feet above our heads, reared their crowns of

ribbon-like leaves above even some of the giants of the forest. Palms

of all shapes and sizes, dwarfed, tall, slender and thick, surrounded

us on every side, and at least three different species of climbing

palms scrambled over the tallest trees. The tree trunks were hidden

by climbing ferns and by a white variegated fleshy-leafed _pothos._

Orchids, though not numerous, were by no means scarce on the branches

of some of the larger trees, and were intermixed with many curious and

beautiful ferns. There were many large-leafed tropical plants somewhat

resembling the _heliconias_ and _marantas_ of tropical America.

Flowers were not very plentiful, but here and there the forest

would be literally ablaze with what is said to be the most showy

flowering creeper in the world, huge bunches of large flowers of

so vivid a scarlet that Monckton and I agreed no painting could

do them justice. It is sometimes known as the _Dalbertia,_ but its

botanical name is _Mucuna bennetti._ It has been found impossible

to introduce it into cultivation. Among other flowers were some very

large sweet-scented _Crinum_ lilies and some very pretty pink flowering

_begonias,_ with their leaves beautifully mottled with silver. Here and

there we would notice a variegated _croton_ or pink-leafed _dracæna,_

but these were uncommon.

As we proceeded, I noticed that in spite of the very dry weather

we had been having, the ground each moment became more moist, which

indicated that we were approaching the swamps we had heard about. It

was a rough track over fallen trees and dry streams, but before long

we passed along the banks of a creek full of stagnant water.

We at length left the forest and found ourselves in open country,

covered with reeds and rank grass, through which we slowly wended

our way. Suddenly, however, we halted, and looking through the

tall grass, saw some of the houses of the Agai Ambu tribe close

at hand. Down we all crouched, hiding ourselves among the grass,

while two of our Baruga guides, who speak the language of the Agai

Ambu, went forward to try and parley with them and induce them to be

friendly with us. We soon heard them yelling out to the Agai Ambu,

who yelled back in reply. This went on for some minutes, when the

Baruga men called out to us to come on.

Jumping up, we rushed forward through the grass and witnessed a

remarkable scene. In front of us was a lake thickly covered with

water-lilies, most of them long-stemmed and of a very beautiful blue,

with a yellow centre, and with large leaves, the edges of which were

covered with a kind of thorn; there were also some white ones with

yellow centre.

On the other side of the lake were several curious houses built on

long poles in the water, the houses themselves being a good height

above the water. The lake presented a scene of great confusion. The

inhabitants were fleeing away from us in their curious canoes, which,

unlike most Papuan canoes, had no outrigger whatever. Their paddles

also were peculiar, the blades being very broad. Close to us were

our two Baruga guides in a canoe with one of the Agai Ambu tribe,

who directly he saw us plunged into the lake and disappeared under

the tangled masses of water lilies.

He remained under some time, but on his coming to the surface again,

one of the Baruga men plunged in after him, and we witnessed an

exciting wrestling match in the water. The Baruga man was by far

the more powerful of the two, but he was no match for the almost

amphibious Agai Ambu, who slipped away from his grasp like an eel,

and swam away, with the Baruga man in close pursuit. All this time

a canoe full of the Agai Ambu was rapidly approaching to the rescue,

waving their paddles over their heads, and the Baruga man, seeing this,

climbed back into his canoe and paddled back to us.

Meanwhile the police had made a rush for a canoe which was close at

hand; but it at once upset, having no outrigger and being exceedingly

light and thin; it was, in fact, a species of canoe quite new to our

police. In any case they would not have had the slightest chance of

overtaking the fleet Agai Ambu in their own canoes. It looked very

much as if after all we were not to have the chance of verifying

the strange reports about the formation of these people. As a last

resource we sent over our two Baruga guides in a canoe to speak with

those of the tribe who had not fled. As the guides approached they

shouted out that we were friends, and that as we were friends of the

Baruga tribe, we must be friends of the Agai Ambu tribe as well.

We held up various tempting trade goods, including a calico known as

Turkey-red, bottles of beads, etc. This and a long conversation with

the Baruga men seemed to carry some weight with them, for the Baruga

soon returned with one of their number, who turned round in the canoe

with his arms outstretched to his friends and cried or rather chanted,

in a sobbing voice, what sounded like a very weird song, which seemed

quite in keeping with the mournful surroundings and lonely life of

these people.

This weird song, heard under such circumstances, quite thrilled me,

and wild and savage though the singer was, the song appealed to me

more than any other song has ever done. It looked as if he might

be a ne'er-do-weel or an idiot whom his friends could afford to

experiment with before taking the risk of coming over themselves,

but his song was no doubt a farewell to his friends, whom he possibly

never expected to see again.

He certainly looked horribly frightened as he stepped out of the

canoe. We at once saw that there was some truth in the reports about

the physical formation of these people, although there had been

exaggeration in the descriptions of their feet as "webbed." There

was, between the toes, an epidermal growth more distinct than in the

case of other peoples, though not so conspicuous as to permit of the

epithet "half-webbed," much less "webbed," being applied to them. The

most noticeable difference was that their legs below the knee were

distinctly shorter than those of the ordinary Papuan, and that their

feet seemed much broader and shorter and very flat, so that altogether

they presented a most extraordinary appearance. The Agai Ambu hardly

ever walk on dry land, and their feet bleed if they attempt to do

so. They appeared to be slightly bowlegged and walk with a mincing

gait, lifting their feet straight up, as if they were pulling them

out of the mud.

Sir Francis Winter, the acting Governor of British New Guinea, was so

interested in our discovery, that he himself made another expedition

with Monckton to see these people, while I was still in New Guinea. On

his return I stayed with him for some time at Government House,

Port Moresby, and he gave me a copy of his report on the Agai Ambu,

which explains the curious physical formation of these people better

than I could do.

He says: "On the other side of this mere, and close to a bed of reeds

and flags, was a little village of the small Ahgai-ambo tribe, and

about three-quarters of a mile off was a second village. After much

shouting our Baruga followers induced two men and a woman to come

across to us from the nearest village. Each came in a small canoe,

which, standing up, they propelled with a long pole. One man and the

woman ventured on shore to where we were standing.

"The Ahgai-ambo have for a period that extends beyond native traditions

lived in this swamp. At one time they were fairly numerous, but a

few years ago some epidemic reduced them to about forty. They never

leave their morass, and the Baruga assured us that they are not able

to walk properly on hard ground, and that their feet soon bleed

if they try to do so. The man that came on shore was for a native

middle-aged. He would have been a fair-sized native, had his body

from the hips downward been proportionate to the upper part of his

frame. He had a good chest and, for a native, a thick neck; and his

arms matched his trunk. His buttocks and thighs were disproportionately

small, and his legs still more so. His feet were short and broad,

and very thin and flat, with, for a native, weak-looking toes. This

last feature was still more noticeable in the woman, whose toes were

long and slight and stood out rigidly from the foot as though they

possessed no joints. The feet of both the man and the woman seemed to

rest on the ground something as wooden feet would do. The skin above

the knees of the man was in loose folds, and the sinews and muscles

around the knee were not well developed. The muscles of the shin were

much better developed than those of the calf. In the ordinary native

the skin on the loins is smooth and tight, and the anatomy of the body

is clearly discernible; but the Ahgai-ambo man had several folds of

thick skin or muscle across the loins, which concealed the outline

of his frame. On placing one of our natives, of the same height,

alongside the marsh man, we noticed that our native was about three

inches higher at the hips.

"I had a good view of our visitor, while he was standing sideways

towards me, and in figure and carriage he looked to me more ape-like

than any human being that I have seen. The woman, who was of middle

age, was much more slightly formed than the man, but her legs were

short and slender in proportion to her figure, which from the waist

to the knees was clothed in a wrapper of native cloth.

"The houses of the near village were built on piles, at a height of

about twelve feet from the surface of the water, but one house at the

far village must have been three or four feet more elevated. Their

canoes, which are small, long, and narrow, and have no outrigger, axe

hollowed out to a mere shell to give them buoyancy. Although the open

water was several feet deep, it was so full of aquatic plants that

a craft of any width, or drawing more than a few inches, would make

but slow progress through it. Needless to say that these craft, which

retain the round form of the log, are exceedingly unstable, but their

owners stand up in them and, pole them along without any difficulty.

"These people are very expert swimmers, and can glide through beds

of reeds or rushes, or over masses of floating vegetable matter,

with ease. They live on wild fowl, fish, sago and marsh plants,

and on vegetables procured from the Baruga in exchange for fish and

sago. They keep a few pigs on platforms built underneath or alongside

their houses. Their dead they place on small platforms among the reeds,

and cover the corpse over with a roof of rude matting. Their dialect

is almost the same as that of the Baruga. Probably their ancestors

at one time lived close to the swamp, and in order to escape from

their enemies were driven to seek a permanent refuge in it."

Thus it will be seen that Sir Francis was much impressed with these

people, and he heartily congratulated me upon our discovery.

To resume my personal account. We soon gave the man confidence

by presenting him with an axe, some calico and beads, and a small

looking-glass, which was held in front of him. He gazed in stupefied

wonderment at his own features so plainly depicted before him. He was

taken back to the other side, and soon returned with two more of his

tribe, who brought us a live pig, which they hauled out from a raised

flooring beneath one of their houses.

The country all round us seemed to be one large swamp, and we stood

upon a springy foundation of reeds and mud; except for these, we

should undoubtedly have soon sunk out of sight in the mud. As it was,

we stood in a foot of water most of the time, and in places we had

to wade through mud over our knees.

The lake swarmed with many kinds of curious water-birds, the most

common being a red-headed kind of plover; there was also a great

variety of duck and teal. The swamps were full of large spiders, which

crawled all over us; we had to keep continually brushing them off.

Farther down the lake we saw another small village, and we were

told that these two villages comprised the whole of this curious

tribe. Whether they axe the remnants of a once powerful tribe it

is impossible to say, but their position is well-nigh impregnable

in case they are ever attacked, as their houses are surrounded by

swamps and water on all sides, and no outsider could very well get

through the swamps to their villages. The only possible way to get

there would be to cross the water in their shell-like canoes, a feat

which no man of any other tribe would ever be able to manage.

Monckton thought that these swamps and lake were formed by an overflow

of the Musa River. This had been a phenomenally dry season for New

Guinea, so these swamps in an ordinary wet season must be under water

to the depth of many feet.

We camped close by on the borders of the forest amid a jungle of

rank luxuriant vegetation, over which hovered large and brilliant

butterflies, among them a very large metallic green and black species

(_Ornithoptera priamus_) and a large one of a bright blue (_Papilio

ulyses_). The same afternoon we three went out shooting on the

lake. Two of the Agai Ambu canoes were lashed together and a raft of

split bamboo put across them, and two Agai Ambu men punted and paddled

us about. Before starting we had first educated them up to the report

of our guns, and after a few shots they soon got over their fright.

The lake positively swarmed with water-fowl, including several

varieties of duck, also shag, divers, pigmy geese, small teal, grebe,

red-headed plover, spur-wing plover, curlew, sandpipers, snipe,

swamp hen, water-rail, and many other birds. The red-headed plover

were especially numerous, and ran about on the surface of the lake,

which was covered with the water-lily leaves and a thick sort of mossy

weed. All the birds seemed remarkably tame, and we got a good assorted

bag, chiefly duck--enough to supply most of our large force with.

I stopped most of the time on the raised platform of one of the houses

and shot the duck, which Acland and Monckton put up, as they flew over

my head. I had a companion in old Giwi, the chief of the Kaili-kailis,

many of whom were among our carriers. He seemed to be on very friendly

terms with one of the Agai Ambu on whose hut I was. Presently a woman

came over in a canoe from one of the houses in the far village, and

climbed up on to the platform where we were. Directly she saw old

Giwi, she caught hold of him and hugged and kissed him all over and

rubbed her face against his body, covering him with the black pigment

with which she had smeared her face. She was sobbing all the time

and chanting a very mournful but not unmusical kind of song. This

exhibition lasted over half an hour, and poor old Giwi looked quite

bewildered, and gazed up at me in a most piteous way, as much as to

say: "Awful nuisance, this woman--but what am I to do?" He understood

the meaning of this performance as little as I did. Possibly the

woman was frightened of us, and seeing a stranger of her own colour

in old Giwi, appealed to him for protection. The Baruga, however,

had previously told us that the Agai Ambu had recently captured one

of their women, and I have since thought that this might possibly

have been the woman, and am sorry I did not make inquiries at the

time. At all events, old Giwi was too courteous to shake her off,

though to me it was a most amusing sight, and it was all I could do

to refrain from laughing aloud.

We saw the dead body of a man half-wrapped in mats tied to poles

in the middle of the lake. They always dispose of their dead thus,

and I suppose leave them there till they rot or dry up.

The chief food of these people seemed to be the bulbs of the

water-lilies, fish and shellfish. They catch plenty of water-fowl by

diving under them and pulling them under the water by the legs before

they have time to make any noise. By this method they do not frighten

the rest away, and this accounts for the birds' extreme tameness.

It seemed odd that we should be paddled about the lake, to shoot wild

fowl, by these people, who until to-day had never seen a white man

before and had fled from us in the morning. However, most of them

had fled and would not return until we had left their country.

There is little doubt that this part of the country is most

unhealthy. Many of our police and carriers were two days later down

with fever, and a few weeks later I had a bad attack of fever, with

which I was laid up in Samarai for some time, and which I feel sure I

got into my system in this swamp. The mosquitoes were certainly very

plentiful and vicious.

We spent the following day here, duck-shooting on the lake, and I did

a little natural-history collecting in the adjacent forest. We had

intended to try and induce two of the Agai Ambu to accompany us back to

Cape Nelson, but most unfortunately they understood that we were going

to take them forcibly away. They became alarmed and all disappeared,

and we were not able to get into communication with them again.

When Sir Francis Winter visited them about a month later they were

evidently quite friendly again, but on the second day of his visit

his native followers demanded a pig of the Agai Ambu in his, Sir

Francis's, name. At this they became alarmed and retreated to the

further village, and he was unable to see any more of them. Since

then I believe nothing more has been seen of these flat-footed people.

We returned to our old camping ground in the Baruga village on the

banks of the Barigi River, and the friendly Baruga people brought

us a big supply of pigs, sago and other native food. The next day

we continued our journey to the coast, and camped at the mouth of

the Barigi River. We had intended making an expedition into the

Hydrographer range of mountains, which we could see from here, and

which were unexplored, but Monckton and Acland were far from well, and

most of our carriers and police were down with fever, and so, greatly

to my disappointment, this had to be abandoned. We resumed our homeward

journey in the whaleboat early the following morning. We started with

a fair breeze, but this changed after a time to a head wind, against

which it was quite impossible to make any headway, so we landed at a

place where there was a small inlet leading into a lagoon. We stayed

here till six p.m., when the wind dropped sufficiently to enable

us to start off again, and, passing the mouth of the Musa River,

we landed about one a.m. in Porlock Bay, where we camped for the night.

We spent the following day shooting, which entailed a lot of wading

amongst the shallow streams, lagoons and small lakes. I had a bit of a

fright here, as I suddenly stepped into some quicksands and felt myself

sinking fast, but, thanks to Arigita and the branch of a tree, I was

able to pull myself out after a great deal of trouble and anxiety,

though if I had not had Arigita with me I should most certainly

have gone under. We got a splendid bag between us of various birds,

chiefly duck and pigeon. One of the police shot a large cassowary,

and also a large wild pig and a wallaby, so there was plenty of food

for all. We sailed again that night at eleven p.m., and got six of

the Okeina canoes to tow us along. This they did not seem to relish,

and before they got into line there was a great deal of angry talking

and shouting, and Monckton had to call them to order by firing a rifle

in the air. It was amusing to see the way the long line of canoes

pulled us round and round in the form of the letter "S," and they

would often bump against each other, and plenty of angry words were

exchanged. It was an amusing _finale_ to the expedition. They left us

for their homes when we got near the Okeina country. We landed in the

early morning on the beach, where we had breakfast, and then rowed on,

followed by the Kaili-kaili and Arifamu canoes, and eventually landed

again at the station at Tufi, Cape Nelson, about two p.m.

In conclusion I should mention that Mr. Oelrechs, Monckton's assistant,

had heard rumours that we had all been massacred, and he told me that

he had been seriously thinking of gathering together a large army of

friendly natives to go down and avenge us, though I think he would

have found it no easy matter, but, as can be seen, we saved him the

trouble, and so our expedition ended.

PART VI

Wanderings and Wonders in Borneo.

CHAPTER XII

On the War-Path in Borneo.

The "Orang-utan" and the "Man of the Jungle"--Voyage to

Sarawak--The Borneo Company, Limited--Kuching, a Picturesque

Capital--Independence of Sarawak--I meet the Rajah and the Chief

Officials--Etiquette of the Sarawak Court--The "Club"--The

"Rangers" of Sarawak and their Trophies--Execution by means

of the Long Kris--Degeneracy of the Land Dayaks--Ascent of the

Rejang River--Mud Banks and Crocodiles--Dr. Hose at his Sarawak

Home--The Fort at Sibu--Enormous length of Dayak Canoes--A Brush

with Head-Hunters--Dayak Vengeance on Chinamen--First Impressions

of the Sea Dayak, "picturesque and interesting"--A Head-Hunting

raid, Dayaks attack the Punans--I accompany the Punitive

Expedition--Voyage Upstream--A Clever "Bird Scare"--Houses on the

top of Tree-stumps--The Kelamantans--Kanawit Village--The Fort at

Kapit--Capture of a notorious Head-Hunting Chief--I inspect the

"Heads" of the Victims--Cause of Head-Hunting--Savage Revenge of

a Dayak Lover and its Sequel--Hose's stem Ultimatum--Accepted by

the Head-Hunters--I return to Sibu--A Fatal Misconception.

I had spent about seven months in the forests of British North

Borneo, going many days' journey into the heart of the country, had

made fine natural-history collections and had come across a great

deal of game, including elephant, rhinoceros, bear, and "tembadu" or

wild cattle, huge wild pig and deer of three species being especially

plentiful. But above all I had come across a great many "orang-utan"

(Malay for "jungle-man") and had been able to study their habits. One

of these great apes has the strength of eight men and possesses an

extraordinary amount of vitality. One that I shot lived for nearly

three hours with five soft-nosed Mauser bullets in its body.

But I had not yet seen the _real_ jungle-man in his native haunts--the

head-hunting Dayak, as the Dayaks are rarely to be found in North

Borneo, whereas the people on the Kinabatangan River (where I spent

most of my time) were a sort of Malay termed "Orang Sungei" (River

People). So, as I was anxious to see the real head-hunting Dayak,

I determined to go to Sarawak, which is in quite a different part of

Borneo. To do this, I had to return to Singapore, and thence, after a

two days' voyage, I arrived at Kuching, the capital of Sarawak. Except

for a Chinese towkay, I was the only saloon passenger, as strangers

rarely visit this country.

Kuching is about twenty-five miles up the Sarawak River, and contains

about thirty thousand inhabitants, chiefly Malays and Chinese,

with about fifty Europeans, who are for the most part government

officials or belong to the Borneo Company, Limited. This company is

very wealthy and owns the only steamship line, plying between Singapore

and Kuching. It has several gold mines and a great quantity of land

planted to pepper, gambier, gutta percha and rubber. The Rajah will

not allow any other company or private individual to buy lands or

open up an estate, neither will he allow any traders in the country.

It would be difficult to imagine a more picturesque town than

Kuching. It chiefly consists of substantial Chinese dwellings of brick

and plaster, with beautiful tile-work of quaint figures, while temples

glittering with gold peep out of thick, luxuriant, tropical growth. Two

miles out of the city you can lose yourself in a dense tropical forest

of the greatest beauty, and in the background is a chain of mountains,

some of them of extraordinary shape. The reigning monarch or Rajah

is an Englishman, Sir Charles Brooke, a nephew of Sir James Brooke,

the first Rajah, who was an officer in the British Navy and who,

after conquering Malay pirates, was made Rajah of the country by the

grateful Dayaks.

Though Sarawak is supposed to be under British protection, and though

all his officials are Britishers, Rajah Brooke considers his country

independent and will not allow the Union Jack to be flown in his

dominions. He possesses his own flag, a mixture of red, black and

yellow, and his own national anthem; moreover his officials refer

to him as the King, and to his son, the heir to the throne, as the

"young King" (or "Rajah Muda").

Two days after my arrival, the Rajah left on his steam yacht for

England, but the day before he left, he held a great reception at his

"palace" (or "astana," as it is called in Malay). It was attended

by all his officials, by high Malay chiefs and the chief Chinese

merchants. The reins of government were formally handed over to his

son, the Rajah Muda, after which champagne was passed round. The chief

resident, Sir Percy Cunninghame, then introduced me to the Rajah. He is

a fine-looking old man with a white moustache and white hair, and is

greatly beloved by every one. He conversed with me for some time, and

asked me many questions about the Chartered Company in British North

Borneo. It was rather embarrassing for me, with every one silently

and respectfully standing around listening to every word. He wished

me success in my travels in the interior, and told his officials to

do all in their power to help me. When you talk about the Rajah you

say "His Highness," but when you address him, you simply say "Rajah"

after every few words--"Yes, Rajah," or "No, Rajah." The native chiefs,

I noticed, kissed the hands of both the Rajah and the Rajah Muda.

There is no hotel in Kuching, so I put up at the rather dilapidated

government Rest-House, part of which I had to myself, the other half

being occupied by two government officers. The club in Kuching seems

a most popular institution with all the officials, and "gin pahits"

(or "bitters") the popular drink of this part of the world; billiards

and pool help to pass many a pleasant evening, the Rajah Muda often

joining us at a game of black pool, like any ordinary mortal.

The Rajah's troops, the Rangers, are a fine body of men; they are

chiefly recruited from the Malays and Dayaks, and have an English

sergeant to drill them. I was told that when they go fighting the wild

head-hunters, they are allowed to bring in as trophies the heads of

those they kill, in the same way that the Dayaks themselves do. The

method of execution here is the same as in other Malay countries,

the criminal being taken down to the banks of the river, where a long

"kris" is thrust down through the shoulder into the heart, and is

then twisted about till the man is dead.

After a visit to Bau, further up the Sarawak River, where the Borneo

Company, whose guest I was, have a gold mine (the clay being treated

by the "cyanide" process), I collected specimens for some time in the

beautiful forests at the foot of the limestone mountains of Poak. Here

I saw something of the Land Dayaks, but they are a poor degenerate

breed, and not to be compared to the Sea Dayaks, who are born fighters,

and whose predatory head-hunting instincts give a great deal of trouble

to the government. These latter were the Dayaks I was anxious to meet,

and I soon made arrangements to visit their country, which is a good

way from Kuching, the real Sea Dayak rarely visiting the capital.

So one morning early I found myself with my two servants, a Chinese

cook and a civilized Dayak named Dubi (Mr. R. Shelford also going),

on board a government paddle-wheel steamer which was bound for Sibu,

on the Rejang River. Twenty-five miles' descent of the Sarawak River

brought us to the sea. We did not skirt the coast, but cut across a

large open expanse of sea for about ninety miles. We then came to the

delta of the Rejang River, and went up one of its many mouths, which

was of great width, though the scenery all the way was monotonous,

and consisted of nothing but mangroves, _pandanus,_ the feathery

_nipa_ palm and the tall, slender "nibong" palm, with here and there

a crocodile lying, out on the mud banks--a dismal scene.

At nightfall we anchored a short way up the river, as the government

will not allow their boats to travel up the river by night, it being

unsafe. We were off again at daylight the next morning, the scenery

improving as the interminable mangroves gave place to the forest. Sixty

miles up the river found us at Sibu, where I put up with Dr. Hose,

the Resident, the celebrated Bornean explorer and naturalist. The

only other Europeans here were two junior officials, Messrs. Johnson

and Bolt. And yet there is a club at Sibu, a club for three, and here

these three officials meet every evening and play pool.

There is a fort in Sibu, as indeed there is at most of the river

places in Sarawak. It is generally a square-shaped wooden building,

perforated all round with small holes for rifles, while just below

the roof is a slanting grill-work through which it is easy to shoot,

though, as it is on the slant, it is hard for spears to enter from the

outside. There are one or two cannons in most of these forts. The fort

at Sibu was close to Dr. Hose's house and was attacked by Dayaks only

a few years ago. Johnson, one of Dr. Hose's assistants, showed me a

very long Dayak canoe capable of seating over one hundred men. It was

made out of one tree, but large as it was, it did not equal some of the

Kayan canoes on this river, one of which was one hundred and forty-five

feet in length. This Dayak canoe was literally riddled with bullets,

and Johnson told me that a few weeks' ago he was fighting some Dayaks

on the Kanawit, a branch river near here, when he was attacked by some

Dayaks in this very canoe. As they came up throwing spears he told his

men to fire, with the result that eighteen Dayaks were killed. The

river at Sibu was of great width, over a mile across, in fact, and

close to the bank is a Malay village, and a bazaar where the wily

Chinaman does a thriving trade in the wild produce of the country,

and makes huge profits out of the Dayaks and other natives on this

river. But the Dayaks often have their revenge and attack the Chinamen

with great slaughter, the result being that they take home with them

plenty of yellow-skinned heads with nice long pig-tails to hang them

up by. During my stay on this river there were two or three cases of

Chinamen being slaughtered by the Dayaks, and if it were not for the

forts on these rivers, every Chinaman would be wiped out of existence.

My first real acquaintance with the Sea Dayak was in the long bazaar

at Sibu, and I was by no means disappointed in my first impressions,

as I found him a most picturesque and interesting individual. The men

usually have long black hair hanging down their backs, often with a

long fringe on their foreheads. Their skin is brown, they have snub

noses but resolute eyes, and they are of fine proportions, though they

rarely exceed five feet five inches in height. Beyond the "jawat,"

a long piece of cloth which hangs down between their legs, they wear

nothing, if I except their many and varied ornaments. They wear a great

variety of earrings. These are often composed of heavy bits of brass,

which draw the lobes of the ears down below the shoulder. When they

go on the war-path they generally wear war-coats made from the skins

of various wild animals, and these are often padded as a protection

against the small poisonous darts of the "sumpitan" or blow-pipe which,

together with the "parang" (a kind of sword) and long spears with

broad steel points constitute their chief weapons. They also have

large shields of light wood; often fantastically painted in curious

patterns, or ornamented with human hair.

I had been at Sibu only three or four days, when word was brought down

to Dr. Hose that the Ulu Ai Dayaks, near Fort Kapit, about one hundred

miles up the river, had attacked and killed a party of Punans for

the sake of their heads. These Punans are a nomadic tribe who wander

about through the great forests with no settled dwelling-places, but

build themselves rough huts and hunt the wild game of the forest and

feed on the many wild fruits that are found in these forests. Hose

at once decided to go up to Fort Kapit and punish these Dayaks, and

gave me leave to accompany him and Shelford. So one morning at six

o'clock we boarded a large steam launch with a party of the Rangers,

mentioned above, as the Rajah's troops. We took, from near Sibu,

several friendly Dayaks, who were armed to the teeth with spears,

"parangs," "sumpitans," shields and war ornaments, all highly elated

at the prospect of the fighting in store for them.

In a short account like this, it is of course impossible to describe

the many interesting things that I saw on the journey up the river. We

passed many of the long, curious Dayak houses and plenty of canoes full

of these picturesque people, and at some of the villages little Dayak

children hurriedly pushed out small canoes from the shore so as to

get rocked by the waves made by our launch. This they seemed to enjoy,

to judge from the delighted yells they gave forth. I several times saw

a most ingenious invention for frightening away the birds and monkeys

from the large fruit trees which surrounded every Dayak village. At

one end of a large rattan cord was a sort of wooden rattle, fixed on

the top of one of the largest fruit trees. The other end of the rattan

was fastened to a slender bamboo stick which was stuck into the river,

and the action of the stream caused the bamboo to sway to and fro,

thus jerking the rattan which in turn set the rattle going. We passed

several small houses built on the tops of large tree-stumps. These,

Dr. Hose informed me, were built by Kanawits, of a race of people

known as Kelamantans. These Kelamantans are supposed to be the oldest

residents of Borneo, being here long before the Dayaks and Kayans,

but they axe fast dying out, as are the Punans, I believe chiefly

owing to the raids of the warlike Dayaks. They were once ferocious

head-hunters, but now they are a very inoffensive people.

About mid-day we stopped at the village of Kanawit, at the mouth of the

river of that name. This village, like Sibu, is composed entirely of

Chinese and Malays. They are all traders and do a thriving business

with the Dayaks and other natives. Here also was a fort with its

cannon, with a Dayak or Malay sergeant and a dozen men in charge. As

we proceeded up river, the scenery became rather monotonous. There

was little tall forest, the country being either cleared for planting

"padi" (rice) or in secondary forest growth or jungle, a sure sign

of a thick population. We saw many Dayaks burning the felled jungle

for planting their "padi," and the air was full of ashes and smoke,

which obscured the rays of the sun and cast a reddish glare on the

surrounding country.

Toward evening we reached the village of Song and stayed here all

night, fastening our launch to the bank. In spite of the fort here,

we learned that the Chinamen were in great fear of an attack by the

Dayaks, which they daily expected. Leaving Song at half-past five the

next morning, we arrived at Kapit about ten a.m. and put up at the

fort, which was a large one. A long, narrow platform from the top of

the fort led to a larger platform on which, overlooking the river,

there was a large cannon which could be turned round so as to cover

all the approaches from the river in case there was an attack on the

fort. We learned that the day before we arrived at Kapit, Mingo, the

Portuguese in charge of the fort, had captured the worst ringleader of

the head-hunters in the bazaar at Kapit, and small parties of loyal

Dayaks were at once sent off to the homes of the other head-hunters

with strict injunctions to bring back the guilty ones, and, failing

persuasion and threats, to attack them. [11] In most cases they were

successful, and I saw many of the prisoners brought in, together with

some of the heads of their victims.

The next morning Hose suddenly called out to me that if I wished

to inspect the heads I would find them hanging up under the cannon

platform by the river, and he sent a Dayak to undo the wrappings

of native cloth and mats in which they were done up. They were a

sickening sight, and all the horrors of head-hunting were brought

before me with vivid and startling reality far more than could have

been done by any writer, and I pictured those same heads full of life

only a few days before, and then suddenly a rush from the outside

amid the unprepared Punans in their rude huts in the depths of the

forest, a woman's scream of terror, followed by the sickening sound of

hacking blows from the sharp Dayak "parangs," and the Dayak war-cry,

"Hoo-hah! hoo-hah!" ringing through the night air, as every single

Punan man, woman and child, who has not had time to escape, is cut

down in cold blood. When all are dead, the proud Dayaks, proceed to

hack off the heads of their victims and bind them round with rattan

strings with which to carry them, and then, returning in triumph,

are hailed with shouts of delight by their envious fellow-villagers,

for this means wives, a Dayak maiden thinking as much of heads as a

white girl would of jewellery. The old Dayak who undid the wrappings

pretended to be horrified, but I felt sure that the old hypocrite

wished that he owned them himself.

Only seven of the heads had been brought in, and two of them were

heads of women, and although they had been smoked, I could easily

see that one of them was that of a quite young, good-looking girl,

with masses of long, dark hair. She had evidently been killed by a

blow from a "parang," as the flesh on the head had been separated by

a large cut which had split the skull open. In one of the men's heads

there were two small pieces of wood inserted in the nose. They were

all ghastly sights to look at, and smelt a bit, and I was not sorry

to be able to turn my back on them.

As in the present case, the brass-encircled young Dayak women are

generally the cause of these head-hunts, as they often refuse to

marry a man unless he has one or more heads, and in many cases a

man is absolutely driven to get a head if he wishes to marry. The

heads are handed down from father to son, and the rank of a Dayak is

generally determined by the number of heads he or his ancestors have

collected. A Dayak goes on the war-path more for the sake of the heads

he may get, than for the honour and glory of the fighting. Generally,

though, there is precious little fighting, as the Dayak attacks only

when his victims are unprepared.

While I was in Borneo I heard the following story of Dayak barbarity,

which is a good example of the way the women incite their men to go

on these head-hunting expeditions. In a certain district where some

missionaries were doing good work among the Dayaks, a Dayak young

man named Hathnaveng had been persuaded by the missionaries to give

up the barbaric custom of headhunting. One day, however, he fell in

love with a Dayak maiden. The girl, although returning his passion,

disdained his offer of marriage, because he no longer indulged in the

ancient practice of cutting off and bringing home the heads of the

enemies of the tribe. Hathnaveng, goaded by the taunts of the girl,

who told him to dress in women's clothes in the future, as he no

longer had the courage of a man, left the village and remained away

for some time. When he returned, he entered his sweetheart's hut,

carrying a sack on his shoulders. He opened it, and four human heads

rolled upon the bamboo floor. At the sight of the trophies, the girl

at once took him back into her favour, and flinging her arms round

his neck, embraced him passionately.

"You wanted heads," declared her lover. "I have brought them. Do you

not recognize them?"

Then to her horror she saw they were the heads of her father, her

mother, her brother and of a young man who was Hathnaveng's rival

for her affections. Hathnaveng was immediately seized by some of

the tribesmen, and by way of punishment was placed in a small bamboo

structure such as is commonly used by the Dayaks for pigs, and allowed

to starve to death. [12] This is a true story, and occurred while I

was still in Borneo.

The day after we arrived at Kapit a great crowd of Dayaks, belonging to

the tribe of those implicated in the attack on the Punans, assembled

at the fort to talk with Dr. Hose on the matter, and the upshot of

it all was startling in its severity. This was Hose's ultimatum:

They must give up the rest of those that took part in the raid, and

they would all get various terms of imprisonment. They must return

the rest of the heads. They must pay enormous fines, and, lastly,

those villages which had men who took part in the raid, must move

down the river opposite Sibu, and thus be under Hose's eye as well

as under the guns of the fort. I watched the faces of the crowd, and

it was interesting to witness their various emotions. Some looked

stupefied, others looked very angry, and that they could not agree

among themselves was plainly evident from their angry squabbling. They

were a curious crowd with their long black hair and fringes and round

tattoo marks on their bodies. They finally agreed to these terms, as

Hose told them that if they did not do so, he would come and make them,

even if he had to kill them all. The following days I witnessed large

bands of Dayaks bringing to the fort their fines, which consisted of

large jars and brass gongs, which are the Dayak forms of currency. The

total fine amounted to $5,200, and the jars were carefully examined,

the gongs weighed and their values assessed. Some of the jars were

very old, but the older they are the more they are worth. Three of

the poorest looking ones were valued at $1,400 (the dollar in Borneo

is about two of our shillings). Of the total, $1,200 was later paid to

the Punans as compensation ("pati nyawa"). I watched some Dayaks--who

had just brought in their fines--as they went away in one of their

large canoes, and they crossed the river with a quick, short stroke

of their paddles in splendid time, so that one heard the sound of

their paddles, as they beat against the side of the canoe, come in one

short tr-r-up. They seemed to be very angry, all talking at once, and

I still heard the sound of their angry voices above the paddles' beat,

long after they had disappeared up a narrow creek on the other side.

I had intended going with my two servants further up the river and

living for some time among the Dayaks, but Dr. Hose made objections

to my doing so. He said it would be very unsafe for me to live among

these Kapit Dayaks at the present time, as they were naturally in a

very excitable state, and would have thought little of killing one of

the "orang puteh" (white men), whom they no doubt considered the cause

of all their trouble. They would be sure to take me for a government

official. Hose instead advised me to go up a small unexplored branch

river below Sibu, so as the launch was returning to Sibu I determined

to return in her, leaving Hose and Shelford at Kapit.

During my short stay at Kapit I added very few new specimens to

my collections of birds and butterflies; in fact, it was the worst

collecting-ground that I struck during more than a year's wanderings

in Borneo. I, however, made a fine collection of Dayak weapons,

shields and war ornaments from our friendly Dayaks, who seemed very

low-spirited now that there was to be no fighting, and on this

account traded some of their property to me which at other times

nothing would have induced them to part with, at a very low figure.

I returned to Sibu with Mingo, and we took with us the ringleader of

the head-hunters. He was kept handcuffed in the hold, and he worked

himself up into a pitiable state of fright. He thought he was going to

be killed, and the whole of the voyage he was chanting a most mournful

kind of song, a regular torrent of words going to one note. My Dayak

servant Dubi informed me that he was singing about the heads he had

taken, and for which he thought he was now going to die.

After a day's stay in Sibu I went up the Sarekei River with my

two servants, and made a long stay in a Dayak house. I will try to

describe my life among the Dayaks in the next chapter. In conclusion,

I must tell the tragic story of a fatal mistake, which was told me by

Johnson, one of the officials at Sibu, which serves to illustrate the

superstitious beliefs of the Malays. A Chinese prisoner at Sibu had

died, at least Johnson and Bolt both thought so, and they sent some of

the Malay soldiers to bury the body on the other side of the river. A

few days later one of them casually remarked to Johnson that they had

often heard it said that the spirit of a man sometimes returned to

his body again for a short time after death (a Malay belief), but he

(this Malay) had not believed it before, but he now knew that it was

true. Johnson, much amused, asked him how that was. "Oh," said the

Malay, "when the Tuan (Johnson) sent us across the river to bury the

dead man the other day, his spirit came back to him and his body sat

up and talked, and we were much afraid, and seized hold of the body;

which gave us much trouble to put it into the hole we had digged,

and when we had quickly filled in the hole so that the body could not

come out again, we fled away quickly, so now we know that the saying

is true." It thus transpired that they had buried a live Chinaman

without being aware of the fact.

CHAPTER XIII

Home-Life Among Head-Hunting Dayaks.

I leave the Main Stream and journey up the Sarekei--A Stream

overarched by Vegetation--House 200 feet long--I make Friends with

the Chief--My New Quarters--Rarity of White Men--Friendliness

of my New Hosts--Embarrassing Request from a Lady, "like we

your skin"--Similar Experience of Wallace--Crowds to see me

Undress--Dayak's interest in Illustrated Papers--Waist-rings

of Dayak Women--Teeth filled with brass--Noisiness of a Dayak

House--Dayak Dogs--A well-meant Blow and its Sequel--Uproarious

Amusement of the Dayaks--Dayak Fruit-Trees--The Durian as King

of all Fruits--Dayak "Bridges" across the Swamp-Dances of the

Head-Hunters--A Secret "Fishing" Expedition--A Spear sent by way of

defiance to the Government--I "score" off the Pig-Hunters--Dayak

Diseases--Dayak Women and Girls--Two "Broken Hearts"--I Raffle my

Tins--"Cookie" and the Head-Hunters, their Jokes and Quarrels--My

Adventure with a Crocodile.

The Rejang is one of the many large rivers which abound in Borneo,

and its tributaries are numerous and for the most part unexplored. The

Rejang is tidal for fully one hundred and fifty miles, and at Sibu

is over a mile in width. The banks of this river are inhabited by

a large population of Malays, Chinese, Dayaks, Kayans, Kanawits,

Punans and numerous other tribes. Thus it is a highly interesting

region for an ethnologist.

It was with feelings of pleasant anticipation that I started down

the river in the government steam-launch from Sibu just as dawn was

breaking, on my way to spend several weeks among the wild Dayaks on

the unexplored Sarekei River. I took with me my two servants, Dubi,

a civilized Dayak, and my Chinese cook. After a journey of four hours

we arrived at a large Malay village near the mouth of the Sarekei

River. Here I disembarked and sought out the chief of the village

and demanded the loan of two canoes, with some men to paddle them,

and in return I offered liberal payment. Accordingly, an hour after my

arrival I found myself with all my belongings and servants on board

the two canoes, with a crew of nine Malays. Soon after leaving the

Malay village we branched off to the left up the Sarekei River. It

was very monotonous at first, as the giant plumes of the _nipa_ palm

hid everything from my view. My Malays worked hard at their paddles,

and late in the afternoon we left the main Sarekei River and paddled

up a small and extremely narrow stream. There we found ourselves in

the depth of a most luxuriant vegetation. We were in a regular tunnel

formed by arching ferns and orchid-laden trees, giant _pandanus,_

various palms and arborescent ferns and _caladiums._ Here grew the

largest _crinum_ lilies I had ever seen. They literally towered over

me, and the sweet-scented white and pink flowers grew in huge bunches

on stems nearly as thick as my arm.

After the bright sun on the main river, the dark, gloomy depths of this

side-stream were very striking. It was so narrow that sometimes the

vegetation on both sides was forced into the canoes, and the "atap"

(palm-thatched) roof of my canoe came in for severe treatment as it

brushed against prickly _pandanus_ and thorny rattans.

The entrance to this stream was completely hidden from view, and no

one but these Malays, who had been up here before, trading with the

Dayaks, could have discovered it. I had told the Malay chief that I

wished to visit a Dayak village where no white man had ever been and

where they were head-hunters. He had smiled slyly and nodded as if he

understood. Thereupon he said, "Baik (good), Tuan," and said he would

help me. Just as darkness was setting in we arrived at a Dayak village,

consisting of one very long house, which I afterwards found to exceed

two hundred feet in length. It was situated about one hundred yards

from the stream. No sooner had we sighted it than the air resounded

with the loud beating of large gongs and plenty of shouting. There

was a great commotion among the Dayaks.

I at first felt doubtful as to the kind of reception I should get,

and immediately made my way to the house with Dubi, who explained

to the Dayak chief that I was no government official, but had come

to see them and also to get some "burong" (birds) and "kopo-kopo"

(butterflies). I forthwith presented the old chief with a bottle of

gin, such as they often get from the Malay traders, and some Javanese

tobacco, and his face was soon wreathed in smiles.

The Dayaks soon brought all my baggage into the house and I paid

off my Malays and proceeded to make myself as comfortable as I could

for my stay of several weeks, the chief giving me a portion of his

own quarters and spreading mats for me over the bamboo floor. On the

latter I put my camp-bed and boxes. I occupied a portion of the open

corridor or main hall, which ran the length of the house and where

the unmarried men sleep. This long corridor was just thirty feet

in width, and formed by far the greater portion of the house; small

openings from this corridor led on to a kind of unsheltered platform

twenty-five feet in width, which ran the length of the house and on

which the Dayaks generally dry their "padi" (rice).

The other side of the house was divided into several rooms, each of

which belonged to a separate family. Here they store their wealth,

chiefly huge jars and brass gongs. The house was raised on piles fully

ten to twelve feet from the ground, the space underneath being fenced

in for the accommodation of their pigs and chickens. The smells that

came up through the half-open bamboo and "bilian"-wood flooring were

the reverse of pleasant. The entrance at each end was by means of

a very steep and slippery sort of ladder made out of one piece of

wood with notches cut in it, the steps being only a few inches in

width. One of these ladders had a rough bamboo hand-rail on each side,

and the top part of the steps was roughly carved into the semblance

of a human face.

In the rafters over my head I noticed a great quantity of spears,

shields, "sumpitans" or blowpipes, paddles, fish-traps, baskets and

rolls of mats piled up indiscriminately, while just over my head where

I slept was a rattan basket containing two human heads, though Dubi

told me he thought the Dayaks had hidden most of their heads on my

arrival. This description of the house I resided in for some time,

applies more or less to all the Dayak houses I saw in Borneo.

This house or village was called Menus, and the old chief's name

was Usit. In spelling these names one has to be entirely guided by

the sounds and write them after the fashion of the English method

of spelling Malay. The village or house of Menus seemed to contain

about one hundred inhabitants, not counting small children. Upon my

arrival I was soon surrounded by a most curious throng, many of whom

gazed at me with open mouths, in astonishment at the sight of an

"orang puteh" (white man), as of course no white man had ever been

here before and but very few of the people had ever seen one. One old

woman remembered having seen a white man, and some of the older men

had from time to time seen government officials on the Rejang River,

but except to these few I was a complete novelty. Considering this,

I was greatly astonished at their friendliness, as not only the men,

but the women and children squatted around me in the most amicable

fashion, and sometimes even became a decided nuisance. My first evening

among them, however, I found extremely amusing, and as my Chinese cook

placed the food he had cooked before me, and as I ate it with knife,

fork and spoon, they watched every mouthful I took amid a loud buzz

of comments and exclamations of delight.

Though by no means the first time I have had to endure this sort of

popularity, or rather notoriety, in various countries of the world,

I do not think I have ever come across a people so full of friendly

curiosity as were these Dayaks. About midnight I began to feel a bit

sleepy, but the admiring multitude did not seem inclined to move,

so I told Dubi to tell them that I wanted to change my clothes and

go to sleep. No one moved. "Tell the ladies to go, Dubi," I said,

but on his translating my message a woman in the background called

out something that met with loud cries of approval.

"What does she say, Dubi?" I asked.

"She says, Tuan," replied Dubi, "they like see your skin, if white

the same all over."

This was rather embarrassing, and I told Dubi to insist upon their

going; but Dubi, whose advice I generally took, replied, "I think,

Tuan (master), more better you show to them your skin." I therefore

submitted with as good a grace as possible, and took my shirt off,

while some of them, especially the women, pinched and patted the skin

on my back amid cries of approval and delight.

They asked if the skin of the Tuan Muda (the Rajah) was as white, and,

on being told that it was, a long and serious conversation took place

among them, during which the name of the Tuan Muda kept constantly

cropping up.

The great naturalist, Wallace, met with much the same experience

among the Dayaks, and as the natives of many other countries among

whom I have lived never seemed to display the same curiosity about

my white skin, I put it down to the Dayaks wishing to see what kind

of a skin the great white Rajah, who rules over them, possesses.

The next two or three nights the crowd that waited to see me change

into my pyjamas was, if anything, still larger, a good many Dayaks

from neighbouring villages coming over to see the sight. But gradually

the novelty wore off, to my great joy, as I was getting a bit tired

of the whole performance. I had come here to see the Dayaks, but it

appeared that they were even more anxious to see me.

For the next two or three weeks an odd Dayak would from time to time

ask to see my skin, so that at length I had absolutely to refuse to

exhibit myself any longer.

I had luckily brought several illustrated magazines with me to use

as papers for my butterflies, and these were a source of endless

delight to the crowds around me in the evenings. They behaved like a

lot of small children, and roared with laughter over the pictures. They

generally looked at the pictures upside down, and even then they seemed

to find something amusing about them. With Dubi as my interpreter

I used to make up stories about the pictures, and, pointing to

the portrait of some well-known actress, described the number of

husbands she had killed, and I'm afraid I grossly libelled many a

well-known politician, general, or divine in telling the Dayaks how

many heads they possessed or how many wives they owned, till it was

quite a natural thing for me to join in their uproarious merriment,

as I pictured in my mind some venerable bishop on the war-path.

As is well known, the Dayak women all wear rings of brass around

their waists. They are called "gronong," and they are made of pliable

rattan inside, with small brass rings fastened around the rattan. In

the centre of each ring there are generally two or three small red

and black rings of coloured rattan between the brass ones. Some wore

only four or five, while others possessed twenty or more, and then

they rather resembled a corset. Even the little girls of four or five

wore two or three of them.

I noticed on my first arrival that the women and some of the men seemed

to have their teeth plentifully filled with gold, but I soon found out

that it was brass that they had ornamented their teeth with, a small

piece being inserted in some way in the centre of each tooth. Their

teeth are generally black from the continual chewing of the betel-nut,

and I noticed small children of four or five years of age going in for

this dirty habit, and still younger children smoking cigarettes, the

covering of which is made out of the dried leaf of the sago-palm. The

Dayaks are almost as dirty as the Negritos in the Philippines, and yet

they are both certainly the merriest people I have ever met with. The

heartiest and most unaffected laughter I have ever heard proceeded

from the throats of Dayaks and Negritos. It almost seems as if dirt

in some cases constitutes true happiness.

The Dayak women seemed to bathe more often than the men, but they

never seemed to take off their brass waist-rings when bathing in the

river. The women also have their wrists covered with brass bangles,

which are all fastened together in one piece. The noise in the house

was deafening at times, especially in the evening, when all come home

from working in their "padi" fields, where the women are supposed to

do most of the work, the men generally going hunting. The continual

hum of conversation and loud laughter, with the noise made by the

pigs and chickens under the house, the dogs and chickens in the house,

and the beating of deep-toned gongs at times nearly drove me frantic,

especially when I was writing.

They resembled a lot of small children and would beat their gongs

simply to amuse themselves. Very often a Dayak, on returning from

his work or a hunt in the jungle, would walk straight up to a large

gong that was hanging up and hammer on it for a few minutes in a most

businesslike way, looking all the time as if it bored him. Then he

would walk away in much the same way as a man would leave the telephone

(as if he had just got through some business). I suppose it soothed

them after their day's work, but it irritated me.

The Dayak dogs are fearful and wonderful animals, both as regards

shape and colour, and I could get very little sleep on account of

the noise they made; yet the Dayaks seemed to sleep through it all.

One night I woke up after a particularly noisy fight, and saw what

appeared to me to be a dog sitting calmly by my bed with its back

turned to me. Lifting my mosquito net, therefore, very quietly, I let

drive with my fist at it, putting all my pent-up indignation and anger

for sleepless nights into the blow. Alas! it was a very solid dog that

I struck against, being nothing more nor less than the side of one of

my boxes, and I barked my knuckles rather badly. The laughter of the

Dayaks was loud and prolonged when Dubi translated the yarn to them

next day, and they remembered it long afterwards. Until I heard the

roar of laughter that went up, the story had not struck me as being

so very amusing!

All around the house for some distance was a forest of tall

fruit-trees. They had of course all been planted in times past by

the Dayaks' ancestors, and every tree had its owner, but they had

become mixed up with many beautiful wild tropic growths which had

sprung up between the trees. Some of these fruit-trees, such as the

"durian," "rambutan," mango, mangosteen, "tamadac" or jackfruit,

"lansat" and bananas, were familiar to me, but there were a great

number of fruits that I had never heard of before, and I got their

names from my Dayak friends. [13]

Needless to say, I never before tasted so many fruits that were

entirely new to me, and most of them were ripe at the time of my

visit. The "durian" comes easily first. It is without doubt the

king of all fruit in both the tropic and temperate zones, and is

popular alike with man and beast, the orang-utan being a great

culprit in robbing the Dayaks of their "durians." I never saw the

"good" "durian" growing wild in Sarawak, but I tasted here a small

wild kind with an orange centre which made me violently sick. No

description of the "durian" taste can do it justice. But its smell

is also past description. It is so bad that many people refuse to

taste it. It is a very large and heavy fruit, covered with strong,

sharp spines, and as it grows on a very tall tree, it is dangerous

to walk underneath in the fruiting season when they are falling,

accidents being common among the Dayaks through this cause. I myself

had a narrow escape one windy day. I was sitting at the foot of one

of these trees eating some of the fallen fruit, when a large "durian"

fell from above and buried itself in the mud not half a yard from me.

Danna, the second chief, would always leave one or two of the fruit

for me on a box close by my head where I slept, before he went off

to his "padi "-planting early in the morning, so that I got quite

used to the bad smell.

The Dayak house was surrounded on three sides by a horrible swamp,

the roads through which consisted of fallen trees laid end to end,

or else of two or three thick poles, laid side by side, and kept in

place by being lashed here and there to two upright stakes, so that

I had to balance myself well or come to grief in the thick mud. The

Dayak bridges, made chiefly of poles and bamboos, were in many cases

awkward things to negotiate, and I had one or two rather nasty falls

from them. While the Dayak women and children never showed any fear

of me in the house, whenever I met them out in the woods or jungle

they would run from me as if I were some kind of wild animal.

I saw several Dayak dances. The men put on their war-plumes and with

shield and "parang" (mentioned above) twirl round and round and cut

with their "parangs" at an imaginary foe, the women all the time

accompanying them with the beating of gongs. Dubi one night showed

them a Malay dance, which consisted of a sort of gliding motion

and a graceful waving of the hands, quite the reverse of the Dayak

dance. One night I noticed a general bustle in the house. The women

seemed greatly excited, and the men passed to and fro with their

"parangs" and "sumpitans" (blowpipes), and cast anxious looks in my

direction as they passed me. They told Dubi they were going fishing;

but it seemed strange that they should go fishing with these warlike

weapons, and I told Dubi so. He himself thought they were going

head-hunting, and I felt sure of it, as they left only the old men,

youths, women and children behind. I did not see them again till the

following evening, nor did I then see signs of any fish. I told Dubi

that I thought it best that he should not ask them any questions, as it

might be awkward if they thought we suspected them. At the same time,

I am bound to admit that there was no direct proof to show that they

had been headhunting; and for this I was glad, as there was no cause

for me to say anything to the Government about it, and so get my kind

hosts into trouble. Some months later I read in a Singapore paper that

"the Dayaks in this district," between Sibu and Kuching, were restless

and inclined to join form with the Dayaks at Kapit, who had sent

Dr. Hose a spear, signifying their defiance of the Sarawak Government.

One evening, when out looking for birds, Dubi and I came across two

Dayaks, who were perched up in trees, waiting for wild pigs that

came to feed on the fallen fruit, when they would spear them from

above. They seemed rather annoyed with us for coming and frightening

the pigs away, and that evening they told everyone that we were the

cause of their not getting a pig. I rather scored them off, by telling

Dubi in an angry voice to ask them what "the dickens" they meant by

getting up in trees and frightening all my birds away. This highly

amused all the other Dayaks, who laughed loud and long, and my two

pig-hunting friends retired into the background discomfited. I myself

went out one evening with a party of Dayaks after wild pig, and stayed

for two hours upon a platform in a tree while they climbed other

trees close by. However, no pigs turned up, although two "plandok"

(mouse-deer) did, though I did not shoot them for fear of frightening

the pigs away. I took my revolver with me, to the great amusement of

the Dayaks, who, of course, had not seen one before, and ridiculed the

idea of so small a weapon being able to kill a pig. The Dayaks told

me that there were plenty of bears here, but I never saw any myself in

this part of Borneo. They told me the bears were very fierce, and had

often nearly killed some of their friends. The Dayak dogs are fearful

cowards, and I was told that they run away at the sight of a wild pig.

Animal life here was not plentiful, and quite the reverse of what I

had seen in the forests of North Borneo, where it was very plentiful.

I noticed the prevalence of that horrible scurvy-like skin-disease

among several of the Dayaks. It was common in New Guinea among

the Papuans, where it was termed "supuma." I cured two little Dayak

children of intermittent fever by giving them quinine and Eno's fruit

salts. The result was that I was greatly troubled by demands on my

limited stock of medicines. One old man had been growing blind for

the last two years, and another was troubled with aches all over him,

and they would hardly believe me when I said that I could not cure

them. They told Dubi that they thought that the white people who

could make such things as I possessed could do anything. So much of

my property seemed to amuse and astonish them, that it was a treat to

show them such things as my looking-glass, hair-brush, socks, guns,

umbrella, watch, etc. I showed them that child's trick of making the

lid of my watch fly open, and they were delighted.

The Dayak women can hardly be considered good-looking. I saw one or two

that were rather pretty, but they were very young and unmarried. Dubi

fell madly in love with one of them and she with him, and when I left

there were two broken hearts. Many of the little girls of about five

and six years old would have been regular pictures if they had only

been cleaner. I made the discovery that some of my Dayak friends were

addicted to the horrible habit of eating clay, and actually found

a regular little digging in the side of a hill where they worked

to get these lumps of reddish grey clay, and soon caught some of

the old men eating it. They declared that they enjoyed it. All my

empty tins (from tinned meats, etc.) were in great demand, and so

to save jealousy I actually demoralized the Dayaks to the extent of

introducing the raffling system among them. Great was the excitement

every evening when I raffled old tins and bottles. Dubi would hand

the bits of paper and they would be a long time making up their minds

which to take. One night Dubi overheard my Chinese cook telling some

of the Dayaks that "the white tuan had no use for these tins himself,

that is why he gives them to you."

This cook, whom I used to call Cookie, was a great nuisance to me,

but he was the most amusing character I ever came across, and he

was the source of endless delight to the Dayaks, who enjoyed teasing

him and jokingly threatened to cut off his head, until he was almost

paralyzed with fright and came and begged me to leave, as we should

all have our heads cut off. After a week or two his courage returned

and I learned that when I was out of the house he would stand on his

head for the amusement of the women and children, though he was by

no means a young man. He soon became quite popular with the women,

who found him highly amusing, and who were always in fits of laughter

whenever he talked. In the evenings he sometimes joined a group of

Dayak youths and would start to air his opinions. Then it was not long

before they were all jeering and mimicking him, and poor old Cookie

would look very foolish and a sickly smile would spread over his yellow

features. Finally he would go off and sulk, and when I asked him what

the matter was, he would reply, "Damn Dayak no wantee." Whenever I

called out for Cookie, the whole house would resound with jeering

Dayak cries of "Cookie, Cookie." He and Dubi were always quarrelling,

and Cookie would work himself up into such a state of excitement that

the place would be full of Dayak laughter, though the Dayak understood

not a word of what they were talking about. In my later wanderings

in Borneo the quarrel between my two servants, Dayak and Chinaman,

grew to such an extent that I feared it would end in murder.

The foregoing account, short as it is, will, I trust, give some idea of

what my long stay among head-hunting Dayaks was like. All things must

have an ending, however, and having finished my collecting in this

neighbourhood I said good-bye to my Dayak friends, with deep regret,

and I think the sorrow was mutual. I know well that Dubi and his little

Dayak sweetheart were almost heartbroken. The Dayaks begged me to stay

longer, but I had already stayed longer than I had at first intended.

Old Usit, the chief, and his crew of Dayaks paddled me all the way

to Sibu. There is little to relate about the journey there, except

that the canoe leaked very badly and the Dayaks had to keep bailing

her out. At night we tied the canoe up to a small wooden platform

outside a Malay house on the Rejang River, to await the change of

the tide, and one of the Dayaks knocked at the door of the house so

that we could cook some food, but the Malays thought that we were

head-hunters, and there was great lamentation, and for some time they

refused to open. While eating my food, with my legs dangling over the

side of the wooden platform, I noticed a dark object that glistened

in the moonlight noiselessly swimming toward me, and I pulled up my

legs pretty quickly. It was a large crocodile, attracted, no doubt,

by the smell of my dinner. The only objection I had was that it might

have taken me for the dinner.

CHAPTER XIV

Visit to the Birds'-nest Caves of Gomanton.

My stay in British North Borneo--Visit to a Tobacco Estate

(Batu Puteh)--Start for the Birds'-nest Caves--News of the

Local Chief's Death--Applicants for the Panglima-ship--We

Visit the late Chief's House-Widows in white--The Hadji "who

longed to be King"--Extraordinary Grove of Banyan-trees--Pigs,

Crocodiles and Monkeys--Astonishing Swimming Performance of a

Monkey--Water Birds Feeding on the Carcase of a Stag--The Hadji

and his Men pray at a Native Grave-shrine--An Elephant charges past

us--Arrival at the Caves--The Entrance--A Cave of enormous Height,

description of the Interior--Return to the Village--Visit to the

Upper Caves--Beautiful Climbing Plants--We reach the Largest

Cave of all: its Extreme Grandeur--"White" Nests and "Black"

Nests secured--Distinctions between the two kinds of Swallows by

whom the Nests are made--Millions of small Bats: an Astonishing

Sight--Methods of Securing the Nests described--Perilous Climbing

Feats--Report of numerous Large Snakes--Cave-coffins, and their

(traditional) rich contents--Dangers of the Descent--All's well

that ends well.

I had just returned down the river with Richardson from

Tangkulap. Tangkulap is a journey of several days up the Kinabatangan

River in British North Borneo. Richardson was the magistrate for this

district, and his rule extended over practically the whole of this

river, Tangkulap being his headquarters. Only three or four white men

had ever been up the river as far as Tangkulap, it being a very lonely

spot in the midst of dense forests, with no other white man living

anywhere near. I had stayed with him for two months, making large

natural history collections and seeing a great deal of both native

and animal life. We had then returned down the river in Richardson's

"gobang" (canoe) to Batu Puteh, a large tobacco estate, and the

only one on this river. Here we were the guests of Paul Brietag, the

manager, a most hospitable German. He and his three German, French,

and Dutch assistants were the only other white men on the whole of

this great river.

While here, Richardson and I determined to visit the wonderful

Gomanton birds'-nest caves, from which great quantities of edible

birds' nests are annually taken. Very few Europeans had ever visited

them, though they are considered among the wonders of the world.

We left Batu Puteh in Richardson's canoe early one morning, and,

although we had a strong stream with us going down, we did not reach

Bilit till evening. Bilit is a large village made up of Malays,

Orang Sungei, and Sulus. Quite a crowd met us on our arrival, and

they seemed not a little excited. It appeared that their late Panglima

(chief), who was also a Hadji, had been on a second voyage to Mecca,

and they had just heard that he had died on his way back. "That was

quite right," they said; "his time had come, and, besides, it had

been foretold that he would die if he tried to go to Mecca again."

Two men were most anxious to gain favour with Richardson--viz., the

dead man's son and another Hadji, who was the richest man in Bilit,

and who had a large share in the Gomanton caves. The reason was that

Richardson had the power to appoint whom he liked as the new Panglima,

provided, of course, that the man was of some standing and fairly

popular. Richardson sent for one of the most influential men in the

village to come and talk the matter over, but he lived on the other

side of the river, and, it being late, they said he dared not cross

in his small "gobang," as the crocodiles are very bad indeed here,

and at night they often help themselves to a man out of his canoe. We

went to the late Panglima's house and had a chat, but nothing was said

about the new Panglima. I caught sight of one of the widows swathed in

white, going through all sorts of contortions by way of mourning for

her late husband. We found that the people were going to the caves in

two or three days to collect the black nests. The white nests had been

collected earlier in the year, but the influential Hadji "who would

be king" offered to go with us on the morrow and start work earlier

than he at first intended if his dreams were favourable, and thus

we should be able to see them at work collecting the nests. Here was

luck both for ourselves and the Hadji: it meant a step in his hopes

of the much-desired Panglima-ship by thus gaining favour with the

magistrate over his younger rival. He was a tall, haughty-looking man,

with an orange-coloured turban, worn only by Hadjis, and the people

seemed to stand in great awe of him and addressed him as "Tuan" or

"Tuan Hadji," the word "Tuan" being usually used only when addressing

Europeans like ourselves; still, his house in which we spent the night

was little better than a pigsty, although he was a very wealthy man.

The next morning we were off before sunrise. After leaving the

village we had a walk of about an hour and a half over a very steep

hill through luxuriant, tall forest, and on the other side came to a

small river, the Menungal, on the banks of which was a shed full of

"gobangs" (canoes) which were speedily launched, we both getting into

the leading one. We were followed by three others, in one of which was

the Hadji. Most of the way was through fine forest, the trees arching

overhead to shade us from the hot sun, the only exception being when

we passed through a stretch of swamps, with low, tangled growth, when

the river broadened out, but in the shady forest it was delightful,

gliding along to the music of the even dip of the paddles.

The most striking feature about the forest on this Menungal River

was the extraordinary growth of a species of banyan trees (_Ficus_

sp.). I have seen many curious stilted trees of this _Ficus_ family in

various tropical countries I have visited, but these I think were more

curious than any I had ever seen. One hardly knew where they began and

where they ended, for they all seemed joined together, and roots and

branches seemed one and the same thing. It was the acme of vegetable

confusion. Even the river could not stop their progress, and we were

constantly gliding between their roots and branches. The growth of

ferns, orchids and parasites on the branches and roots of these trees

was luxuriant to a degree and formed veritable hanging gardens.

On these Bornean rivers one is constantly seeing pigs, crocodiles and

monkeys, but I noticed on this river an abundance of a monkey which

one seldom sees on the large Kinabatangan River. I refer to the very

curious proboscis or long-nosed monkey (_Nasalis larvatus_). These

animals often sat still overhead and stared down at us in the most

contemptuous and indifferent manner, and they looked so human and yet

so comical with their enormous red noses that I found myself laughing

aloud, our scullers doing the same, till the monkeys actually grinned

with indignation. They axe large monkeys with long tails, and are

beautifully marked with various shades of grey and brown, and their

large, fleshy, red noses give them an extraordinary appearance.

One of them did a performance that astonished me. We saw a group of

them on a branch over the river about forty yards ahead of us, when

one of them jumped into the middle of the river and coolly swam to a

hanging creeper up which it climbed, none the worse for its voluntary

bath. This was the only time that I had ever seen a monkey swim, but

the natives assured me that these monkeys are very good swimmers. It

struck me as being a very risky performance, as this river was full

of crocodiles.

I saw on this river a wonderful orchid growing on large trees. This

was a _Grammatophyllum_ with bulbs some times over eight feet in

length. The length of the name is certainly suitable for so large

an orchid. I saw plenty of water-birds, including white egrets and

a long-necked diver which is called the "snake-bird," owing to its

long neck projecting lout of the water and thus greatly resembling a

snake. I shot several of each kind of bird, plucking the fine plumes

from the backs of the egrets. We ate some of the divers that evening

and found them first-class food, tasting much like goose. We later in

the day disturbed a whole colony of these water-birds feeding on the

carcase of a large stag in the river, and the smell was very strong

for some distance. I did not attempt to shoot any more mock geese

till we had put a good many miles between ourselves and the dead

stag. We passed several canoes slowly wending their way to the eaves,

the people taking it easy and camping on the banks and fishing. They

dried the fish on the roofs of their thatched canoes. Some of these

people had very curious rattan pyramid-shaped hats gaily ornamented

with strips of bright-coloured cloth.

Toward evening the river got exceedingly narrow, and fallen trees

obstructed our way, so that we had sometimes to lie flat on our backs

to pass under them, and at other times we had to get out while our

canoe was hauled over the mud at the side.

Just before we reached our destination for the night, we came to a

spot where the bank was hung with bits of coloured cloth and calico

fastened to sticks, I also noticed some bananas and dried fish tied to

the sticks. This signified that there was a native burial ground close

by, and all the canoes were stopped, the scullers putting their paddles

down, while the Hadji and all his men proceeded to wash their faces

in the river. This they did to ensure success in their nest-collecting.

We stayed the night in one of two raised half-thatched huts used only

by the natives in the collecting seasons, a ladder from the river

leading into them. It was almost dark when we arrived, and hardly were

we under shelter when rain came down in torrents. It poured all night,

and when we started off on foot at sunrise the next morning we found

the track in the forest a regular quagmire; in places we waded through

mud up to our knees. As we scrambled and floundered through the mud

at our best pace we heard a great crashing noise just in front of us,

and the air resounded with cries of "Gajah, gajah!" (elephant). I was

just in time to see a large elephant tear by. It literally seemed to

fly, and knocked down small trees as if they were grass. It seemed

greatly frightened, and made a sort of coughing noise. It went by so

quickly that I was unable to see whether it had tusks or not.

After about three hours' hard tramping, I caught sight of a high

mass of white limestone gleaming through the trees. It made a pretty

picture in the early morning, the white rock peeping out of luxuriant

creepers and foliage. It rises very abruptly from the surrounding

forest, and at a distance looked quite inaccessible to a climber.

We waded through a stream of clear water, washing the horrible forest

mud from off us, and soon found ourselves in a most picturesque

village at the very base of the rock. We disturbed quite a crowd of

native girls bathing in a spring, and they seemed very much alarmed

and surprised at seeing two Europeans suddenly turn the corner. Out

of season I don't believe any one lives in this village except some

watchers at the mouths of the eaves to guard against thieves. The

Hadji gave us a rough hut with a flooring of split bamboo and kept us

provided with chickens. All this no doubt was in his estimation part

of the necessary steps to securing that much-desired Panglima-ship.

The two days we were here, people kept flocking into the village,

most of the men carrying long steel-pointed spears, in many cases

beautifully mounted with engraved silver: others carried long "parangs"

and "krises" in rough wooden sheaths, but the handles were often of

carved ivory and silver.

After some breakfast we started off to see the near lower cave, which

was one of the smaller ones. We followed a very pretty ferny track

by the side of a rocky stream for a short distance, the forest being

partially cleared and open, with large boulders scattered around. The

sky overhead was thick with swallows, in fact one could almost say

the air was black with them. These of course were the birds that make

the nests. The mouth of the cave partly prepared me for what I was to

see. I had expected a small entrance, but here it was, I should say,

sixty feet in height and of great width, the entrance being partly

overhung with a curtain of luxuriant creepers. The smell of guano

had been strong before, but here it was overpowering.

Extending inside the cave for about one hundred yards was a small

village of native huts used chiefly by the guards or watchers of

these caves. Compared with the vastness of the interior of the cave--I

believe about four hundred and eighty feet in height--one could almost

imagine that one was looking at the small model of a village. A small

stream ran out of a large hill of guano, and if you left the track you

sank over your knees in guano. The vastness of the interior of this

cave impressed me beyond words. It was stupendous, and to describe

it properly would take a better pen than mine. One could actually see

the very roof overhead, as there were two or three openings near the

top (reminding one of windows high up in a cathedral) through which

broad shafts of light forced their way, making some old hanging rattan

ladders high up appear like silvery spider webs. Of course there were

recesses overhead where the light could not penetrate, and these were

the homes of millions of small bats, of which more presently. As

for the birds themselves, this was one of their nesting seasons,

and the cave was full of myriads of them. The twittering they made

resembled the whisperings of a multitude. The majority of them kept

near the roof, and as they flew to and fro through the shafts of light

they presented a most curious effect and looked like swarms of gnats;

lower down they resembled silvery butterflies. Where the light shone

on the rocky walls and roofs one could distinguish masses upon masses

of little silver black specks. These were their nests, as this was a

black-nest cave. Somewhere below in the bowels of the earth rumbled

an underground river with a noise like distant thunder. This cavernous

roar far below and the twittering whisper of the swallows far overhead,

combined to add much to the mysteriousness of these wonderful caves.

On the ground in the guano I picked up several eggs, unbroken. How

they could fall that distance and yet not get smashed is hard to

understand, unless it is that they fell in the soft guano on their

ends. We were told that when a man fell from the top he was smashed

literally into jelly. I also picked up a few birds which had been

stunned when flying against the rocks. This saved me from shooting any.

Spread out on the ground in the cave and also drying outside, raised

from the ground on stakes, were coil after coil of rattan ropes and

ladders used for collecting the nests. These always have to be new

each season, and are first carefully tested. The ladders are made

of well twisted strands of rattan with steps of strong, hard wood,

generally "bilian."

On our return to the village we bathed in a shady stream of clear

water, the banks of which I noted were composed chiefly of guano. In

the afternoon we started off in search of the upper eaves. After

a short, stiff climb amid natural rockeries of jagged limestone,

we passed under a rock archway or bridge, under which were perched

frail-looking raised native huts of the watchers. As we stood under

this curious archway we looked down a precipice on our left. It was

very steep at our feet, but from the far side it took the form of a

slanting shaft, which terminated in a little window or inlet into the

lower cave we had visited in the morning. In our ascent we had to climb

up very rough, steep ladders fastened against the rocky ledges. The

rocks were in many places gay with variegated plants, the most notable

being a very pretty-leafed begonia, covered with pink and silver spots,

the spots being half pink, half white. The natives with us seemed to

enjoy eating these leaves; they certainly looked tempting enough.

Another fine plant growing among these rocks was a climbing _pothos,_

with very dark green leaves, ornamented with a silver band across

each leaf, but the finest of all was a fine velvet-leafed climber,

veined with crimson, pink, or white (_Cissus_ sp.).

We at length came to the entrance of a long chain of eaves, through

which we passed, going down a very steep grade, and our guides had to

carry lights. After a climb down some steep rocks in semi-darkness,

we at length found ourselves in the largest cave of all, supposed to be

about five hundred and sixty feet in height. [14] It, too, had two or

three natural windows, through which the light penetrated. One of them

was on the top, in the very centre of the cave, and from down below

it looked like a distant star. This opening was on the very summit of

the Gomanton rock. This cave greatly resembled the smaller one I have

already described, except that it was of much grander dimensions. As in

the first cave, one could hear the roar of an underground torrent, and

the swallows seemed even more numerous. On the rocky walls I noticed

plenty of large spiders and a curious insect, with a long body and

long, thin legs, which ran very fast, and whose bite we were told

was very poisonous.

On the way back, when passing through some very low caves, the Hadji

got some of his men to knock down for me a few of the white nests from

the sides of the cave with long poles, and in another cave they got me

some black nests. The difference between these white and black nests

is this: they are made by two different kinds of swallows. The white

nest is made by a very small bird, but the bird that builds the black

nest is twice the size of the other. The white nest looks something

like pure white gelatine, and is very clean, and has no feathers

in it. The black nest, on the contrary, is plentifully coated with

feathers, and it is, in consequence, not worth nearly as much as the

white nest. The nests are made from the saliva of the birds. Both

are very plain coloured birds; an ordinary swallow is brilliant in

comparison. This is unusual in a country so full of brilliant-plumaged

birds as Borneo is; but, as they spend most of their lives in the

depths of these sombre caves, I suppose it is only natural that their

plumage should be obscure and plain. These birds'-nest caves are found

all over Borneo and the Malay Peninsula, and also in Java and other

parts of the Malay archipelago, but these are by far the largest. The

revenue from these caves alone brings the Government a very large

sum. By far the greatest number of these nests are sent to China,

where birds'-nest soup is an expensive luxury. The natives of Borneo

do not eat them. For myself, I found the soup rather tasteless.

We were told that if they missed one season's nest collecting, most

of the birds would forsake these caves, possibly because there would

be so little room for them to build again. I learned that they build

and lay four times a year, but I think that they meant that both

the black and the white-nest birds lay twice each. The white kind

build their first nests about March, and the black kind in May, and,

as these nests are all collected before they have time to hatch their

eggs, there are no young birds till later in the year, when the nests

are not disturbed, but the old nests are collected with the new ones

the following year. If the guano could be easily transported to the

coast it would be a paying proposition, but the Government fears that

it might frighten the birds away.

About dusk that evening after we had returned to our hut, I heard a

noise like the whistling of the wind, and, going outside, I saw a truly

wonderful sight, in fact a sight that filled me with amazement. The

millions of small bats which share these caves with the birds were

issuing forth for the night from the small hole I spoke about on the

very top of the rock leading into the large cave, but what a sight it

was! As far as the eye could see they stretched in one even unbroken

column across the sky. They issued from the cave in a compact mass

and preserved the same even formation till they disappeared in the far

distance. As far as I could see there were no stragglers. They rather

resembled a thick line of smoke coming out of the funnel of a steamer,

with this exception that they kept the same thick line till they went

out of sight. The most curious thing about it was that the thick line

twisted and wriggled across the sky for all the world like a giant

snake, as if it were blown about by gusts of wind, of which, however,

there was none. Even with these strange manoeuvres the bats kept the

same unbroken solid formation. They were still coming forth in the same

manner till darkness set in, and then I could only hear the beating

of myriads of wings like the sighing of the wind in the tree-tops.

They return in early morning in much the same fashion. I heard that

the swallows usually did the same thing, only the other way about;

when the bats came out, the swallows entered the eaves, and when the

bats went in, the swallows came out, but it being now their nesting

season, they went in and out of the eaves irregularly all day, but

I was quite satisfied to see the bats go through the performance,

as it was one of the most wonderful sights I have ever seen.

We had been told that it would be three or four more days before the

collecting would take place, and also that they had to wait for a

good omen in the shape of a good dream coming to one of the chief

owners of the caves. Our pleasure was great, therefore, when the

Hadji and some of his followers paid us a visit that night and told

us that work should start in the largest cave the next morning for

our benefit. That was good news, indeed, as Richardson could not wait

more than another day. It was another good move for the Hadji and his

Panglima-ship, and I told Richardson he ought to give it him forthwith.

The next morning we climbed to the top of the rock. It was hard

work climbing over the brittle rocks and up perpendicular and

shaky ladders. On reaching the summit we got a splendid view of the

surrounding country, and could plainly see the distant sea; but all

else was thick, billowy forest, dotted at long intervals with limestone

ridges, also covered with forest. Here we found the hole on the top

of the large cave, and stretching across it were two long, thick

"bilian" logs, to which the natives were now fastening their long

rattan ladders before descending them to collect the nests. We crept

along the logs and listened to the everlasting twittering far below;

but, although we could see nothing but pitchy darkness, the thought

of what was below made me soon crawl back with a very shaky feeling

in my legs.

We then descended again till we came to the mouth of a curious cave,

which was practically a dark chasm at our feet. We climbed down

into the depths on a straight, swaying ladder, which required a good

grip, and then, after a climb over slanting, slippery rocks, we found

ourselves in the large cave, on a sort of ledge, within perhaps sixty

feet of the roof. We were told that we were the first Europeans who

had ever descended on to this ledge. From here we watched the natives

collecting the nests. In a short account of this description it is

impossible for me to detail all the wonderful methods the natives

had for collecting the nests, but the chief method was by descending

rattan ladders, which were let down through the hole on the top of

the cave. It made one quite giddy even to watch the men descending

these frail swaying ladders with over five hundred feet of space

below them. The man on the nearest ladder had a long rattan rope

attached low down to his ladder, with a kind of wooden anchor at

the end of it. At the second attempt he succeeded with a wonderful

throw in getting the anchor to stick in the soft guano on the edge

of the slanting ledge where we were. It was then seized by several

men waiting there; by these it was hauled up until they were enabled

to catch hold of the end of the ladder, which they dragged higher and

higher up the steep, slanting rocks we had come down by. This in time

brought the flexible ladder, at least the part on which the man was,

level with the roof, and he, lying on his back on the thin ladder,

pulled the nests off the rocky roof, putting them into a large rattan

basket fastened about his body.

We saw many other methods they have of collecting these nests by the

aid of long bamboo poles and rattan ropes, up which they climbed to

dizzy heights.

These eaves, we were told, were full of very large harmless snakes,

but we did not come across them. If I had had a good head and plenty

of skill and pluck as a climber, I might have come away a wealthy man,

as the Hadji told us that in a sort of side cave high up in the large

cave were the coffins of the men that first discovered these caves,

and with them were large jars of gold and jewels, but no one dared

touch them, as they said it would be certain death to the man who did

so. A man once did take some, but a few days later was taken violently

ill and so had them put back and thus recovered. It was not for any

scruples of this kind that I declined the Hadji's offer to help myself

when he pointed out to me the spot where they were, but I think he

must have guessed that I would not have trusted myself on one of those

frail swaying ladders with over five hundred feet of space beneath me.

On the way back we scrambled up to a small cave where there were

numerous carved coffins and bones which belonged to some of the former

owners of the caves, but alas! no jars of gold; possibly poor men, they

did not realize good prices. We returned down the rocks a different

way, which made Richardson indulge in some hearty language at the

Hadji's expense, who must have had fears that the Panglima-ship was

at the last moment slipping away from him. It certainly was awkward

and dangerous work climbing down the steep precipices, and we could

never have done it, but that the rocks were quite honeycombed with

small holes which enabled us to get a good hold for our hands.

That night was a busy one for me, skinning my numerous birds and

blowing the eggs by a dim light to the accompaniment of Richardson's

snores, and I did not get to bed till 2 a.m. We were up again at 4

a.m. for the return journey. But I had seen one of the most wonderful

sights in the world, and to me it seemed extraordinary that until I

came to Borneo I had never even heard of the Gomanton eaves. Some

day, perhaps within our time, they will become widely advertised,

and swarms of noisy tourists will come over in airships from London

and New York, but there will be one thing lacking--all romance will

have gone from these lonely wilds and forests, and that is the chief

thing. The Hadji returned with us to Bilit, and got his desire,

the Panglima-ship, and well he deserved it.

NOTES

[1] C is pronounced as Th.: _e.g.,_ "Cawa"--"Thawa."

[2] Nabuna, pron. Nambuna.

[3] Panes of glass in a _Fijian_ house are very unusual, but this

house, being Government-built, was European. I can only recall one

other instance, that of Ratu Kandavu Levu on his small island of

Bau, and then it was only in the native house where he entertained

European guests.

[4] These circumstances were a matter of common knowledge, at the time

of my visit, all over Fiji. On the other hand it must be remembered

that Ratu Lala did not think he was doing any harm, for the woman,

having done wrong, required punishing, and naturally South Sea Island

ideas of punishment, inherited from past generations, differ radically

from those of Europeans.

[5] _Ptychosperma_ sp.

[6] _Pritchardia Pacifica._

[7] _Elateridæ_

[8] Pron.: longa-longa.

[9] Pronounced "Samothe."

[10] "b" pronounced "mb."

[11] R. Shelford's Report.

[12] From a Singapore Paper.

[13] Some of these names that I got were "kudong" "blimbing," "mawang,"

"sima" "lakat," "kamayan," "nika," "esu," "kubal," "padalai" and

"rambai."

[14] These were the heights given me by the Malays.