CHAPTER XI.

THE PHYSICAL AND POLITICAL GEOGRAPHY OF THE DISTRICTS LYING BETWEEN GAYA BAY AND THE TAMPASUK RIVER;[21] WITH A GEOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF MALUDU BAY AND THE NORTH-EAST COAST OF BORNEO.

The Coast Line—The Rivers—The Bays—Gaya Bay—Abai—Character of Interior Country—Plains—Hills—Kina Balu—First Ascent by Mr. Low—Description of Summit—The Peaks—The Northern Ranges—Steep Granite Slopes—The Spurs—The Main Spur—Interior Country—Distant Mountains—Plain—Villages—The Lake—Vegetation on Kina Balu—The Rivers—The Ananam—The Kabatuan—The Mengkabong—The Tawaran—The Abai—The Tampasuk—Its Interior—Political Geography—Inhabitants—The Lanuns—The Bajus—Mahomedans—Appearance—Their Women—Their Houses—Love of Cockfighting—Fine Breed of Fowls—Other Inhabitants—The Ida’an—Their Houses—Their Women—Tatooing—Comfortable House—Method of Government—No Wars—Aborigines Honest—Exceptions—Agriculture—Ploughing—Remnant of Chinese Civilization—Tobacco—Cotton—Good Soil—Amount of Population—Numerous and Extensive Villages—The Tampasuk—The Tawaran—Mengkabong—Other Districts—Enumeration—Manufactures—Lanun Cloths—Trade—Difficult Travelling—Languages—Geology—Sandstone—Greenstone—Climate of Kina Balu temperate—Map—Addition—Maludu Bay— Western Point—Western Shore—Mountains—Head of Bay—Population—Accounts compared—Bengkoka—Minerals—Eastern Point—Banguey—Difficult Navigation—Small Rivers and Bays—Paitan—Sugut—Low Coast—Labuk Bay—High Land—Benggaya—Labuk—Sandakan—Story of the Atas Man—Kina Batangan—Cape Unsang—Tungku—Population—The Ida’an—The Mahomedans.

The coast line, as viewed from the sea, presents the following appearance: Gaya Island, and the shores of Gaya, and Sapangar Bays are hilly, and this continues to within a mile of the mouth of the Mengkabong; the land then becomes flat, with the exception of the Tambalan hill, as far as the mouth of the Sulaman creek or river. High land then commences, which continues for a short distance beyond the Abai, when it again becomes low, and presents the same appearance for many miles beyond the Tampasuk river, the coast being fringed by Casuarinas.

The mouths of the rivers Ananam, Kabatuan, Mengkabong, Tawaran, Sulaman, Abai, and Tampasuk are all shallow, and unfit for European vessels; the deepest having but nine feet at low water, and with the exception of the Ananam, Kabatuan, and Abai, are much exposed during both monsoons, and are rendered dangerous by the numerous sandbanks that lie off their mouths. The Ananam in Gaya Bay, and the Kabatuan in Sapangar Bay, are only suited for native craft. The Abai has more water, and, its mouth being sheltered, small vessels, at certain times of tide, might enter; within, the river deepens to four fathoms, and the surrounding hills render it a perfectly land-locked harbour.

There are several bays along this coast which insure complete shelter for shipping. The finest of these harbours is that composed of the two bays Gaya and Sapangar, which is large enough to afford protection during both monsoons for every vessel that trades to the East; it contains within itself minor harbours, as one on the north-east of Gaya Island, which has thirteen fathoms, and is perfectly safe; while abundance of fresh water may be obtained on its western shore. Lokporin, in Sapangar Bay, is also a secure anchorage. Gantisan, the Malay town on the north-eastern shore, though good for shipping, is not so secure for very small craft, as squalls from the south-west raise rather a heavy sea there. Several coral reefs jut out from the northern shore, with deep water on either side of them. This harbour is the most important in Borneo, from its commanding position in the China seas, and from its great security.

Good shelter may also be found in Ambong and Usukan Bays, but I have not entered them myself. Ambong is described as running deep into the land, and surrounded by hills with smooth surfaces and of gentle ascent; the alternations of wood and cleared land affording a most beautiful landscape. The harbour of Ambong abounds in beautiful sheltered little bays, but barred by coral patches, which rise exactly from the spots where they disturb the utility of these snug retreats.[22] The next, Abai, affords excellent shelter during both monsoons, though open to the north-west; it is, however, of inferior importance, though fresh water may be obtained in small quantities on the grassy plain at the entrance of the river: water, however, is rarely absent where the land is hilly. Wherever the country is low, and occasionally elsewhere, there are sandy beaches. The west end of Gaya Island, Gaya Head, and the points between Sulaman and Abai, are rocky; beyond these appear broad sandy beaches.

Passing the coast line, the country presents varied forms; the hills that surround Gaya harbour are low, and cleared at the top, bearing at present a rank crop of grass; others have a reddish tint, from the ferruginous nature of the soil; the rest are covered with jungle. On entering the Kabatuan, the banks are lined with a narrow belt of mangrove, but the hills rise immediately at the back, and this character appears to extend far into the interior both of the Kabatuan and Mengkabong. From the latter river to the Sulaman stretches a plain, perhaps seven miles in width, varied by a few very low hills. The country changes here, and broken ranges extend to the Abai: hill and plain are then intermixed; but, as soon as we approach the Tampasuk, the country opens, and, for Borneo, an extensive plain spreads out, reaching to the foot of the Maludu mountains. It is, however, occasionally diversified by low, undulating sandstone hills.

This flat, level ground is admirably adapted for rice cultivation, as it is grass land, without any jungle. On leaving these plains, ranges of hills commence, rising generally with great abruptness, presenting steep sides and narrow ridges, and running, for the most part, in an eastern and western direction. There are, however, exceptions to the above description: a few of the hills have easy slopes, and many of the ranges are connected by cross ridges running north and south, particularly at the heads of valleys where the waters of the different tributaries flow in opposite directions to join their main rivers. The highest of the hills we measured was under 3,000 feet. The ranges towards the interior are higher, and at the back of these are very lofty mountains, including Kina Balu,[23] 13,698 feet (Belcher); Saduk Saduk, about 6,000 feet; and others, whose names we could not obtain, estimated at above 7,000 feet. All the hills in these districts that we examined consisted of sandstone until we reached Kina Balu.

With regard to the height of that mountain, various opinions have been entertained; but until some one is fortunate enough to reach its summit with a good barometer, I think we may rest contented with Sir Edward Belcher’s measurement by trigonometry. He makes it 13,698 feet. Mr. Low, on his first ascent, had a very inferior barometer; while during the last two expeditions we were provided with magnificent barometers by Adie; but unfortunate accidents rendered them useless. However, sufficient observations were taken to show that the first barometer was incorrect, and, though both inclined, during our first joint expedition, to place the height of the mountain at about 11,000 feet, the last makes us feel assured that we underrated the height. I am, therefore, inclined, from all the observations made, to think that Sir Edward Belcher’s measurement is correct.

The summit of Kina Balu consists of syenite granite, which is in many places so jointed as to give it the appearance of being stratified. About ten peaks spring from a line running from east to west, while about half a mile to the southward rises another detached peak. Between the latter and the western portion of the former is an open space, like a broad terrace, with sloping sides, down which huge slabs are continually gliding. The southern peak presents a very different aspect, according to the point from which we view it: from the terrace, it looks sharp, not above a yard in breadth; while from the east and west it seems quite rounded. This renders it comparatively easy of ascent. On three sides it is perpendicular, while, on the south, it presents no material difficulty. Without careful barometrical observations it will be impossible to fix on the highest peak. From several views, the southern, the summit of which I gained during the first trip, appeared as high as the others, while from the terrace both east and west appeared rather higher. The west has a rounded appearance; but we failed to discover a way of ascending to its summit. I reached within perhaps forty feet, when it presented only perpendicular sides. It is gradually giving way before atmospheric influences, its northern base being covered with huge angular stones that have fallen; the summit is still overhanging, and much of it apparently ready to topple over. Between the western and eastern peaks, on the edge of the cliffs which overlook deep chasms below, is a sort of wall, principally of huge granite rocks, some so perched on the others that at first sight it appears the work of man—geologically explained, I suppose, by the wearing away of the softer portions of the rock around. Some of the peaks present the appearance of a thumb, while others are massive, as those that rise on either side of the spot where Mr. Low, in 1851, left a bottle.

The summit is above two miles in length; and I observed that, in descending to its N.W. and E. spurs, the rocks assume a perfectly serrated appearance. Kina Balu extends a long distance towards the N.E. or E.N.E., its height varying perhaps from 10,000 to 11,000 feet: but partially divided from the parent mountain by a deep chasm. From the top, we did not see this portion of the mountain; in fact, the mist generally obscured the view, leaving but patches visible. The summit of the mountain, as I have before observed, consists of syenite granite; but every here and there it is crossed by belts of a white rock. For about 3,000 feet below the peaks there is but little vegetation, and the face of granite sweeps steeply up at an angle of 37½ degrees. In the gullies, and in other sheltered spots, are thickets of flowering shrubs, principally of rhododendrons—a few even extending to the base of the peaks, particularly in the “bottle gully.”

From what we observed, the summit of the mountain can only be reached by the way we followed—I mean that portion above 9,000 feet. To that spot there are said to be two paths. Kina Balu throws out, on every side, great shoulders, or spurs, which have also their sub-spurs. The principal are the N.W., very steep; the W.N.W., which subdivides. On the western face of the mountain there are but minor spurs, which leave 5,000 feet of precipice above them. From the southward, two huge spurs extend: on one is the village of Kiau. It springs from the left of the southern face, and running S.W., turns to west and by north, and subdivides. The next spur that springs from the eastern portion of the southern face is, in every respect, the most important. It may be called, for the sake of distinction, the main spur. Those to the left we could not observe fully, as we then only saw them from above, but from the north-east coast they appeared to slope very gradually. The main spur runs at first to the S.W. for about five miles; it then follows almost a S.S.W. direction for about twenty miles, throwing off, on either side, many sub-spurs. A glance at the map will best explain my meaning. This is the range that is observed from the sea, and gave the notion of a back-bone to Borneo; but beyond these twenty-five miles it does not appear to extend. In fact, mountain ranges, running to the east and west, are distinctly visible—the first, at not a greater distance than thirty-five or thirty-six miles, appears to cross close to the end of the main spur. If we were disappointed by not obtaining complete views from the summit, we were partially repaid by the clear view we had of the country lying to the S. and S.E. of Kina Balu. We were at an elevation of between 7,000 and 8,000 feet on the main spur, and observed numerous mountain ranges whose bearings I will give.

High peaked mountainsS. ½ E.8,000 ft.30 miles distance.
  „     „S.E. by E.7,000 ft.18   „
  „     „S.E. by E. ¾ E.7,000 ft.18   „
A range: highest peakS.8,000 ft.25   „
  „     „S.S.W.—70   „
A range: eastern end of
a long table range running
E. by N. and W. by S.		S.S.E.—60   „
A peakS.E. ¾ E.—very distant.
A long range (peak)S.E.—   „

The latter is stated to be in the Kina Batañgan country. The distances and heights are estimated.

Between us and the mountains, bearing S.E. by E. eighteen miles, there was a grassy plain, perhaps three miles by two, on which were many villages, and through this there flowed a fair-sized river. We could trace its course as far as the third spur that springs from the main one; then a line of hills appeared to obstruct it; but beyond we could again trace the course of a stream, which is probably its source. This river, it was stated by the people of the country, flows into the lake of Kina Balu. It runs from the S.W. to the N.E. With the exception of the plain above-mentioned and a marsh, whose commencement we could observe north-east of the plain, all the country appeared hilly, and most of the land was cleared, and either under cultivation, or showed the remains of former plantations. We could observe in the second valley two villages—the first called Tuhan, the next Inserban, and at both cotton is said to be cultivated. Many villages and detached houses were also observed, whose names our guides had forgotten. The road to the lake is by the two above-mentioned villages, while the names of those beyond are Penusuk, Tambian, Paka, and Koporiñgan—these are stated to be on the route, or close to the lake. A few words concerning this mythic sheet of water, as it has generally been considered: that it exists to the east of the mountain appears from inquiry to be almost certain. Its size it is unnecessary to estimate, though our informants stated that, standing on one bank, it was not possible to see the opposite one. It cannot, however, be of the great size marked in the old maps, or in the situation assigned to it, as the whole country, from E.S.E. to the western coast, was distinctly visible, and the Ida’an expressly stated that it was farther to the north and east of the plain I have before noticed. Mr. Low made many inquiries during our first trip, and we jointly questioned the Ida’an, on many occasions during our long stay at the Kiau village, and they spoke of it as a certainty, many affirming that they themselves had been on trading expeditions to it. I may add that Mr. De Crespigny, who lived some time at Maludu Bay, heard that the lake was to the south of Kina Balu, where it certainly is not. Peterman’s map is entirely incorrect as to the position of the lake.

I must now make a few remarks on the vegetation which covered the mountain. Cultivation extends, in a few places, to the height of 3,500 feet, but beyond that there is a fine jungle, on the main spur, to the height of 6,000 feet; it then begins to degenerate, and in the exposed portion of the ridge the trees are bent across the path, inferior in size and covered with moss. But above this height, in sheltered spots, the trees again increase in size; beyond 7,000 feet, however, there are few fine trees, the vegetation changing its character, most of it consisting of flowering shrubs, varying in height from ten to twenty feet. The trees, however, on the sides of the spurs continued of a comparatively large size until we had passed 9,000 feet; at 10,000 feet the shrubbery became very straggling, and above that it was only scattered among the granite rocks. On the W.N.W. spur, called the Marei Parei, the vegetation even at 4,500 feet was exceedingly stunted in many places; while above, in equally exposed situations, the jungle was of fair size: probably, the nature of the soil may account for it, that of the Marei Parei district being formed of decomposed serpentine, containing very much peroxide of iron. Kina Balu appears to be the seat of the pitcher-plant, Mr. Low having made a collection of extraordinary-shaped ones—perhaps the most beautiful in the world.

At the risk of repetition, I will make a few observations on each of the rivers which drain these districts. I have already remarked that the shallowness of their mouths renders them unfit for European commerce; in fact, the fresh-water streams soon become mere mountain torrents. The Ananam I have not ascended; the Kabatuan is apparently but a collection of salt-water creeks, with a few fresh-water rivulets. The former town of Meñggatal was situated about three miles up it, and only at flood tide would it float a frigate’s barge. Near the town the banks were grassy, and many cocoa-nuts were grown in the neighbourhood. The Mengkabong, also, can scarcely be called a river; it is rather a large salt-water lake with numerous islands, some containing hills of several hundred feet in height; it is very shallow, many portions of it being dry at low tides, while others have but a few inches of water. It appears to be filling up fast, and, perhaps, affords a clue to the cause of the formation of the plains that extend beyond, which all appear to be composed of alluvial deposits. Many fresh-water rivulets drain the neighbouring hills, and pour their waters into this creek, but it is always salt; it extends, perhaps, five or six miles in a straight line from the shore. The Sulaman I have not entered, but I have seen it from the hills on many occasions; it presents the appearance of a lake, and is reported as a salt-water creek. We could observe, by the rivulets that drained into the Tawaran, that the Sulaman has no interior, but it has a depth of twelve feet at its entrance. The Tawaran, on the contrary, is a fresh-water river even to its mouth, the flood-tides making but a slight impression on it. Large native prahus can safely ascend it for six miles; after that it depends on the state of the weather, rising and falling very rapidly as it is influenced by the rains. The banks of the river as far as Bawang village are flat; there the hills commence; and three miles beyond the Tawaran divides into two branches; one coming from the south, the other from the E.S.E. They immediately degenerate into mountain torrents, and are not to be used by boats, but at some risk produce is occasionally brought down on rafts. Every range of hills affords the parent stream a rivulet, but the Tawaran does not penetrate far into the country; its sources are in the main spur of Kina Balu; the east branch rising between the second and third sub-spur, on the west side of the main spur; the southern branch appears very small. On both occasions I passed the Tawaran, it was of a dirty yellow colour, being filled with the detritus of the neighbouring hills. Land slips are very common, which afford a considerable amount of matter for the torrents to carry seawards. The Tawaran is subject to very sudden inundations, the waters occasionally reaching the houses at the village of Buñgol, though fifty feet above the stream. There is no foundation for Dalrymple’s story, which has been often repeated, of the Tawaran rising in the lake; it evidently springs from the main spur of Kina Balu.

The Abai is a salt-water creek, but preserving more the appearance of a river; much of both banks are mangrove until we approach the houses. Its depth varies: on the bar it is but one fathom, while inside it deepens to four, and it has a channel to the villages of about two fathoms. It is a favourite anchorage for native prahus, being admirably adapted for them. Two small rivulets join the Abai; the Gading, and the Paka Paka, both inhabited by the Ida’an.

The Tampasuk is essentially a fresh-water river, very similar to the Tawaran, of no importance to European ships, except that in wet seasons its waters run unmixed half a mile out to sea. It differs from the Tawaran, in having occasionally immense granite boulders in the stream; while the latter drains only a sandstone country; but, like the Tawaran, it divides into two branches; the eastern one flows from the northern portion of Kina Balu. We could observe its direction for above ten miles, as it ran through the low land, and its course was E.S.E. from the junction. The Pengantaran, that drains a portion of the north-west of Kina Balu, bringing down immense quantities of blocks of serpentine, is the only other stream worth noticing. The natives seldom make use of the Tampasuk beyond the spot where the river divides, though above it rafts are occasionally used; but it evidently is not a general practice, as the river is filled with fish traps, which require the stream to be dammed across with loose stone walls.

The hills do not press closely to the river’s banks; if they do so on one side, the other is certain to have a strip of low land, along which the path is carried; in fact, from the sea to Koung village there is but one steep hill to cross. Sometimes there are small plains, that skirt the banks; at others, gently sloping fields. The steep hills commence a few miles below Koung, on the left bank, and continue, with few exceptions, to the base of Kina Balu. The village of Labang Labang, on a spur of Saduk Saduk, has an easy slope from Koung, while towards the great mountain it is very steep. Near Labang Labang the river divides and assumes different names: the principal branch is called the Kalupis; the other, the Dahombang, or Hobang, and this receives the Kini Taki and the Pinokok. Between the Hobang and Pinokok streams is a sort of table-land, about a couple of miles across, by perhaps four in length; it is not absolutely flat, but the ground swells very gently. The Kalupis has its source at the very summit of the hill, and we could trace its course from the time it was but an inch deep, till collecting all the drainage of the top, it dashed past our resting-place (at 9,000 feet) a fair-sized mountain torrent. About 1,000 feet below, at the head of the Kalupis valley, it throws itself over the rocks, forming a fine cascade of perhaps 1,500 feet in height.

I may notice that off the coast between Gaya Bay and the western point of Maludu Bay there is often a very heavy ground swell, and the rollers occasionally are so dangerous as to prevent vessels attempting to communicate with the shallow rivers. I was once very anxious to visit the Pandasan, but when we arrived off its mouth, the rollers looked so dangerous, that the captain of the steamer decided it would be unsafe for the ship’s boats to venture in, and I scarcely regretted his determination. The ground swell was so great, that it was almost impossible to stand on deck.

Having noticed the principal features connected with the physical geography, I will add a few notes on what Mr. Hamilton correctly calls political geography.

The population of these districts consists principally of three classes—the Lanun, the Baju, and the Ida’an or Dusun.

The Lanuns were formerly numerous, having populous settlements on the Tawaran and the Tampasuk, as well as on the Pandasan and Layer Layer farther west. They originally came from the large island of Magindanau, which is considered as the most southern island of the Philippine group. They have formed settlements on various points as convenient piratical stations, particularly on the east coast at Tungku and other places.

As I have elsewhere observed, not only did they pirate by sea, but they created an unappeasable feud with the Ida’an, by stealing their children. No race in the Archipelago equals the Lanun in courage; the Ida’an therefore considering it useless to make regular attacks, hung about the villages, and by destroying small parties, forced the Lanuns to leave Tawaran, who then joined their countrymen at Tampasuk. Sir Thomas Cochrane attacked both Pandasan and Tampasuk, which induced the most piratical portion to retire to the east coast. At present but few remain in Tampasuk; they are not considered to have more than 150 fighting men; they are essentially strangers, and unpopular. They seldom form regular governments, but attach themselves to certain chiefs, who are partial to high-sounding titles, particularly those of sultan and rajah. These chiefs are independent of each other, and unite only for defence, or for an extensive expedition. They, however, are gradually leaving these districts. Although Mahomedans, their women are not shut up; on the contrary, they freely mix with the men, and even join in public deliberations, and are said to be tolerably good-looking. The men I have seen are better featured than the Malays or Bajus. Our slight knowledge of the Lanuns partly arises from the jealousy of the Bornean Government, which used to employ all its influence to prevent their frequenting Labuan in order to trade. This partly arose from a desire to prevent the development of our colony, and partly from an absurd idea that they could thus monopolize their trade; but the Lanuns, though often deterred from visiting our settlement, seldom cared to meet the Bornean nobles.

The Bajus are scattered along the coast, their principal settlements being at Mengkabong and Tampasuk. At Mengkabong they appear numerous, and perhaps could muster 1,000 fighting men; at Tampasuk, they estimate their own number at 600; at Pandasan, 400; at Abai, Sulaman, and Ambong, there are a few. Their origin is involved in obscurity: they are evidently strangers. They self-style themselves Orang Sama, or Sama men. They principally occupy themselves with fishing, manufacturing salt, and with petty trade. Some breed cows, horses, and goats, while a few plant rice, and have small gardens.

They profess the Mahomedan religion, and keep the fast with some strictness; though, like the Malays, are probably but little acquainted with its tenets. The Bajus are not a handsome race—they have generally pinched-up, small faces, low foreheads, but bright eyes. The men are short and slight, but very active; the women have a similar appearance to the men, and are slighter than the Malay. They wear their hair tied in a knot on the fore part of the crown of the head, which is very unbecoming. The women appeared to have greater liberty than among the Malays, and came and sat near us and conversed. We saw many men that differed totally from the above description; but on inquiry, we found they were of mixed breed: one, Baju, Lanun, Malay, and Chinese; the next, Baju, Sulu, Lanun, and Malay. In fact, many intermarry, which renders it difficult to give a particular type for one race. The Bajus of Tampasuk nominally acknowledge a Datu as their chief, who receives his authority from Brunei; but they never pay taxes to the supreme Government, and seldom send even a present. They are individually very independent, and render no obedience to their chief, unless it suits their own convenience. They are, therefore, disunited, and unable to make head against the few Lanuns, with whom they have continual quarrels. Every man goes armed, and seldom walks. If he cannot procure a pony, he rides a cow or a buffalo, the latter generally carrying double. Their arms consist of a spear, shield, and sword. Their houses are similar to those of the Malays, being built on posts, sometimes in the water, sometimes on the dry land. In Mengkabong, they are all on the water, and are very poor specimens of leaf-huts. The Tampasuk not affording water accommodation, the houses are built on shore. The only good one was the Datu’s, which consisted of a planked house of two stories; the lower, occupied by the married portion of the family, consisted of one large room, with broad enclosed verandahs, occupied by the chief, his wife, and his followers, while the upper was reserved for the young unmarried girls and children. Of furniture there is little—mats, boxes, cooking utensils, and bed places being the principal. In these countries there are no public buildings, no offices, jails, or hospitals, or even a fort or stockade; and the houses being built of but temporary materials, there are no ancient buildings of any description. The Bajus are very fond of cock-fighting, and in order to indulge in this sport with greater satisfaction, carefully rear a very fine breed of fowls, which are famous along the coast. I have seen some of the cocks as large as the Cochin Chinese. It is probable they are descended from those brought by the early immigrants from China, as they no way resemble the ordinary Bornean breed found in every Malay and Dayak village. They fatten readily, and the hens bring up fine broods.

Mixed with the Bajus are a few Borneans; in Gantisan they form the bulk of the village; in Mengkabong they are not numerous; while in the northern districts there are few, if any. Of strangers, an occasional Indian, African, or Chinese may be seen, but they are petty traders, who return to Labuan after a short residence.

The principal inhabitants of these districts consist of the Ida’an or Dusun, the aboriginal population.[24] They are essentially the same in appearance as the Dayak, the Kayan, the Murut, and the Bisaya; their houses, dress, and manners are very similar, modified, of course, by circumstances. In the Kabatuan, Mengkabong, Sulaman, and Abai are some tribes of Ida’an, but I have not visited their villages; I shall, therefore, confine myself to those I observed on the Tawaran and Tampasuk.

On the banks of the Tawaran, where it flows through the plain, are many villages of Ida’an, which are often completely hidden by groves of fruit-trees. These men have a civilized appearance, wearing jackets and trousers. As you advance into the interior, these gradually lessen, clothes being seen only on a few, as at Kiau, near Kina Balu; beyond, they are said to use the bark of trees. Some of the tribes in the Tawaran have followed the Malay fashion of living in small houses suitable for a single family; while others occupy the usual long house, with the broad verandah, and separate rooms only for the families. The house in which we lodged, at Ginambur on the Tampasuk, was the best I have ever seen among the aborigines. It was boarded with finely-worked planks; the doors strong and excellently made, each also having a small opening for the dogs to go in and out; the flooring of bamboos, beaten out, was very neat and free from all dirt, which I have never before noticed in a Dayak house, where the dogs render everything filthy. The Ginambur Ida’an are good specimens of the aborigines; they are free from disease, and are clear-skinned; they have good-tempered countenances. None of the women are good-looking; still they are not ugly. All the girls and young women wear a piece of cloth to conceal their bosoms: it was upheld by strips of coloured rattans: their petticoats were also longer than usual, and the young girls had the front of the head shaved, like Chinese girls. I did not notice that any of the men of that village were tatooed, but in our walk we had met parties of men from the interior who were so: a tatooed band, two inches broad, stretched in an arc from each shoulder, meeting on their stomachs, then turning off to their hips, and some of them had a tatooed band extending from the shoulder to the hand. Many of their villages are extensive, as Koung, which is large, scattered on a grassy plain, with a portion on the hill above. It is a very pretty spot, the greensward stretching on either side of the river’s bank, where their buffaloes and cattle graze. This tribe has the appearance of being rich; they possess abundance of cattle, pigs, fowls, rice, and vegetables, while the river affords them fish. Kiau is also an extensive village, but the houses and the people are very dirty.

None of these Ida’an pay any tribute, though many chiefs on the coast call them their people; but it is merely nominal, no one daring to oppress them. Each village is a separate government, and almost each house independent. They have no established chiefs, but follow the councils of the old men to whom they are related. They have no regular wars, which would induce them to unite more closely; their feuds are but petty quarrels, and in but one house did I observe heads, and that was at the village of Tamparuli, in the Tawaran plain. The very fact of troops of girls working in the fields without male protection would prove the security that exists, though every male always walks armed. We had no opportunity of observing any of their ceremonies, and it is very unsafe to trust to the information of interpreters.

The aborigines, in general, are so honest that little notice is taken of this good quality; however, to our surprise, we found that these Ida’an were not to be trusted. We were warned by the Bajus to take care of our things, but we felt no distrust. However, at Kiau they proved their thievish qualities, which, however, we frightened out of them, as during our second residence we lost nothing there. At the village of Nilu one made an attempt, which we checked.

The Ida’an are essentially agriculturists, and raise rice, sweet potatoes, the kiladi (Arum—an esculent root), yams, Indian corn, sugar-cane, tobacco, and cotton. The sugar-cane is only raised for eating in its natural state, while the cotton is confined to certain districts.

I first saw the natives ploughing in the Tampasuk; their plough is very simple, and is constructed entirely of wood; it serves rather to scratch the land than really to turn it over. The plough was drawn by a buffalo, and its action was the same as if a pointed stick had been dragged through the land to the depth of about four inches. After ploughing, they use a rough harrow. In the Tawaran they ploughed better, the earth being partially turned over to the depth of about six inches. The Ida’an have divided the land into square fields with narrow banks between them, and each division being as much private property as English land, is considered very valuable, and the banks are made to keep in the water. Their crops are said to be very plentiful. Simple as this agriculture is, it is superior to anything that exists south of Brunei, and it would be curious if we could investigate the causes that have rendered this small portion of Borneo, between the capital and Maludu Bay, so superior in agriculture to the rest. I think it is obviously a remnant of Chinese civilization. Pepper is not grown north of Gaya Bay, and is confined to the districts between it and the capital.

The Ida’an use a species of sledge made of bamboos, and drawn by buffaloes to take their heavy goods to market. The gardens on the Tawaran are well kept and very neatly fenced in. On the hills the plough is not used, the land being too steep; and there the agriculture presents nothing remarkable, beyond the great care displayed in keeping the crops free from weeds. The tobacco is well attended to, and these districts supply the whole coast, none being imported from abroad. When carefully cured, the flavour is considered as good, and the cultivation might be easily extended. Of the cotton I can say little, as I did not find that any of the tribes through whose country we passed cultivated it, though they assured me they purchased their supplies from the villages near the lake. The Tuhan and Inserban districts produce it, they said, in considerable quantities; and I observed the women, in several places, spinning yarn from the cotton. The Bajus obtain their supplies from a tribe near Maludu Bay. Among the hills the implements of agriculture consist of simply a parang chopper and a biliong, or native axe, and the ground is, therefore, no more turned up than what can be effected by a pointed stick; in fact, the steepness of the valley sides is against a very improved rice cultivation; it is better adapted for coffee. Mr. Low, who has much experience, pronounces the soil, a rich orange-coloured loam, to be superior to that of Ceylon, and, Kina Balu being but twenty-five miles from the sea-coast, there are great advantages there. The plains are alluvial and very fertile.

With regard to the amount of population, all estimates would be mere guess work; but it must be considerable, as little old forest remains, except at the summits of lofty hills; the rest being either under cultivation or lying fallow with brushwood upon it. The tribes on the Tampasuk estimated their own numbers at five thousand fighting-men; the Tawaran tribes were equally numerous; but reducing that estimate, and putting together the various information received, I should be disposed to place the entire population of these districts at above forty thousand people. This is under rather than over the amount.

The five thousand fighting men who are stated by the Ida’an to live in the Tampasuk are, they say, thus divided:—

The Piasau Ida’an500
Ginambur1,000
Bungol1,000
Koung500
Kiau2,000
Total5,000

It is impossible to verify this statement, but we may test it slightly by the observations made. The Piasau Ida’an, so named from the extensive groves of cocoa-nuts that surround their villages (piasau, a cocoa-nut), are spread over the Tampasuk plain, and I think I am understating, when I say we noticed above fifteen villages, and I should have myself placed their numbers much higher that five hundred. The Ginambur was a large village, and there was another of the same Ida’an about a mile off among the hills, which I passed through on our return. Buñgol is also stated at a thousand men. Our Malays, who visited it, said that it was very large; while the extensive village of Tambatuan, Peñgantaran, and Batong, with numerous others among the hills, have to be included in the Ginambur and Buñgol tribes. Koung is placed at five hundred, which is not a high estimate, there being about three hundred families in the village. Kiau is stated to contain two thousand fighting men; in this number are included the village of Pinokok (small), of Labang Labang (large), of Sayap, which we did not see. I should be inclined to reduce the Kiaus by five hundred men, though we understood them to say that their tribe was numerous beyond the north-western spur, in the neighbourhood of Sayap. I think we shall not be over-estimating the population by placing it at four thousand fighting Ida’an, or sixteen thousand inhabitants. Rejecting the women and children, both male and female, and the aged, one in four may be taken as the combatants. There were many villages on the eastern branch, some of Piasaus, others probably of Buñgol. The great extent of country cleared shows the population to be comparatively numerous. I may make this observation, the result of many years’ experience, that I have seldom found the statements of the natives with regard to population above the truth. In Sarawak and the neighbouring rivers, where we had better means of ascertaining the correctness of the accounts rendered, I have always found it necessary to add a third to the numbers stated.

The Tawaran, perhaps, contains a population nearly equal to that of the Tampasuk. The villages between the mouth and Bawang are numerous, but much concealed by groves of fruit-trees. Tamparuli was an extensive village, and Bawang of fair size. The Nilau tribe was scattered over the sides of the hills. Kalawat was a large village, with perhaps eighty families. Buñgol contains, perhaps, over one hundred and fifty families. The Tagoh, Bañgow, and other villages, were observed on sub-spurs; and beyond Buñgol the tribes must be numerous, if we may judge from the extensive fires made by them to clear their plantations. On the right-hand branch are also many villages, but we had no opportunity of examining them. By native accounts, the Tawaran district is more populous than the Tampasuk.

Of Anaman I know nothing; of Kabatuan I saw little beyond the Malay town; but I was informed that the Ida’an were numerous in the interior of this river, as well as on the hills that surround Mengkabong. I have placed them at two thousand, which is not a high estimate.

Mengkabong contains also an extensive Baju population, and in estimating them at six thousand, it is, I believe, much below the number. The villages are numerous, and the chief town large. It is possible that there are not more than a thousand fighting-men, but the Bajus are holders of slaves, and there are also many strangers settled among them.

Sulaman is placed at a thousand, which includes both Baju and Ida’an, and may be a little over the mark; for it I have nothing but vague native testimony.

Abai contains about thirty houses, perhaps not above two hundred people; while on the hills are a few small villages of Ida’an. I have put them at one hundred and twenty-five fighting-men, or five hundred in all.

Tampasuk contains about one hundred and fifty Lanun men, or seven hundred and fifty population. Bajus, five hundred, or two thousand five hundred people. I have multiplied the Lanun and Baju fighting-men by five, as they have many slaves both male and female.

Gaya Bay contains about three hundred people.

The population of these districts may therefore be entered as follows:—

Gaya Bay300Malays and others.
Kabatuan1,000Ida’an.
Mengkabong6,000Bajus and others.
„1,000Ida’an.
Tawaran10,000Ida’an.
Sulaman1,000Ida’an and Bajus.
Abai200Bajus.
 „500Ida’an.
Tampasuk2,500Bajus.
„750Lanuns.
„16,000Ida’an.
Total45,250

The only figures in the above which I think may possibly be overstated, are the Bajus of Tampasuk. We may fairly reckon the population of the districts between Gaya Bay and Tampasuk at forty-five thousand, being quite aware, at the same time, that it is founded on very loose data; but it may serve as a guide to future inquirers.

There are but trifling manufactures carried on. The Bajus are much occupied in preparing salt for the inland tribes. The only other manufacture that is worth noticing, is that of cloths from native cotton, and the most esteemed are those of the Lanuns. The cloth is generally black, with a few white lines running through it, forming a check. It is strong and more enduring than any other I have seen, and fetches a high price—varying from 1l. 5s. to 2l. 10s. for a piece sufficient for a single petticoat. They are, however, deteriorating since the introduction of cheap English yarn, which is superseding the carefully-spun native. No minerals have as yet been discovered in these districts beyond the coal in Gaya Island, though tin has been found to the north of Kina Balu, near one of the streams flowing into Maludu Bay.

There is but little trade carried on: the only articles of export are tobacco, rice, a little wax, cattle, and horses, or rather ponies; the imports consist of cloths, iron, gongs, and earthenware, with occasionally a valuable jar. Little beyond tobacco is brought from the interior, as everything is carried on men’s shoulders, none of their paths being as yet suited for loaded beasts.

It is a great drawback to this country, having no navigable rivers, nor on the hills have they good paths. The latter are easily made, the country presenting no natural difficulties, while in the plains very fair roads already exist, fit for their sledges. The tribes in the interior are at present far beyond any commerce; in fact, the people near the lake have never been visited by the coast population, and trust to exchanging with the other Ida’an. But as the taste for cloth is evidently on the increase, it is possible the trade may improve. Englishmen travelling in that country do great good by spreading a taste for European manufactures.

With respect to the languages spoken, I will at present make but few remarks. The Lanun and Baju are entirely different from the language of the Ida’an. I have made several vocabularies and many inquiries. At Kiau, we collected above 400 words; at Blimbing on the Limbang, 300; and whilst in Maludu Bay, seven years ago, I likewise made a short vocabulary. These three agree so far that I may say that the Ida’an and Bisaya have two out of three words in common; and on further inquiry, I think that the remaining one-third will gradually dwindle away, as at present many of the words in my Bisaya vocabulary are Malay, for which they have their native word. The result of my inquiries is that all the Ida’an speak the same language with slight local differences. We found all the tribes on the Tampasuk and Tawaran spoke fluently to each other, and one of our interpreters, who had never before visited these countries, but had been accustomed to the aborigines to the south, conversed freely with them. The Bisayas live on the rivers in the neighbourhood of the capital, and their language differs but little from that of the Ida’an.

The Ida’an contains but few Malay words, these generally referring to imported articles and domestic animals. Some are similar to those of the Land Dayaks of Sarawak.

I will add a few remarks on the geology of these districts, premising them, however, by the observation that I am ignorant of the science. Wherever the rocks protruded through the hills, we noticed they were decomposing sandstone; and this character continued until we reached the great mountain. Occasionally, as in Gaya island, the rocks were of a harder texture; and here a Mr. Molley is said to have been shown a vein of coal. In the districts to the west and south of the Tampasuk, we noticed no signs of primitive rock; while in the Tampasuk river, huge boulders of granite are met with a little above Butong, while the debris extends as far as the junction; but the rocks of the hills are sandstone, and this character continues to the base of the mountain. At Koung, the rocks dipped to the south-west by south, at an angle of 45°. On the Marei Parei spur, we could trace the sandstone to the height of about 4,000 feet, the dip about 80° to the south-west; greenstone immediately after protruded, and appeared to form the chief rock. On the Marei Parei spur, the compass was so affected by the peroxide of iron which formed a sort of coating to the rocks, that it would not act. The main spur consists at first of sandstone; then of shale, almost as hard as stone; and of various rocks which I could not recognize; then of decomposing granite, above which commences the massive outline of the summit. We found in our collection a piece of limestone that was broken off somewhere near the base of the mountain in the Kalupis valley.

The country presents the appearance of having been originally of sedimentary rocks, through which the granite has forced its way, upheaving the sandstone to an angle of 80°.

With regard to the climate, I made a few notes. The plain and low hills are much the same as the rest of Borneo, or other tropical countries; but in the neighbourhood of Kina Balu it is of course different. We found at the village of Kiau that the thermometer never marked above 77° during the day, and varied from 66° to 69° during the nights. The mean of all the observations gave a shade below 68°. The Marei Parei spur offered a fine position for a sanitarium, at any height between 4,000 feet and 5,000 feet. Our tent was pitched at about 4,700 feet, and we found that the thermometer marked 75° (mean) in the midday shade, 56° at six A.M., and 63° (mean) at six P.M. This would be a delightful climate in a well-built house. The cave at 9,000 feet was very cold—at two P.M. 52° mean; and during the three nights I slept there on my first expedition, it was 40° 33´ (mean); ranging between 36° 5´ and 43°. In my last expedition, in the cave, the thermometer marked: 6.30 A.M., 43°; 9.15 A.M., 48°; 3·30 P.M., 51·250°; 6 P.M., 45·750°. Night, registering thermometer: 41·250° and 41°. On the summit, during mist and rain, it marked 52°; while exposed to a strong wind and a storm of sleet and hail, it fell to 43°. On a fine day, however, it marked 62° in the shade, there being much refraction from the rocks.

I think it most probable that water would freeze on the summit during a similar storm of hail and sleet to which we were exposed, were it to occur during the night-time, as at two P.M. the thermometer fell to 43°, though held in the hand: and at the cave it fell to 36·5° during a very cold night, though partly protected by the tent, and when I went out, I found a sort of hoar-frost on the rocks and leaves.

I must add a few remarks on the map. The sea-line is taken from the Admiralty chart, while the interior I have filled up from the observations and rough plans made during the journey. It may afford some idea of the country, and serve until a traveller with greater advantages makes a better.

I will add a few remarks on that great indentation of the land to the north of Kina Balu, called Maludu Bay, but more correctly Marudu. Steering from the westward, there are two channels by which the northern point of Borneo may be rounded: they are to the north and south of the little island of Kalampunuan. A sweeping current often renders the latter dangerous, as it would drive a vessel on a reef of rocks that runs off the island. Just before the extreme point is reached there is a small river or creek of Luru, which is also known by the name of Simpañg Meñgayu, or the Cruising Creek, the Sampan Mangy of the Admiralty charts. Round the point there is another, named Karatang, and both are well known to the natives as the spots where the Balignini and Lanun pirates lurked to catch the trading prahus which passed that way.

An incident occurred to a Bornean acquaintance, named Nakodah Bakir, who had accompanied me on my visit to the Baram River. He had found, from experience, the inutility of arming his prahus, with brass swivels of native manufacture; as, though they carry far, they seldom hit anything; so he changed his plan and armed his men with English muskets. Early in the autumn of 1851, he was on a trading voyage to Maludu Bay, and having secured a good cargo, was returning to the capital. As he rounded the northern point, five Lanun boats dashed out of Luru, and pulled towards him, firing their brass swivels, whose balls passed harmlessly through his rigging. He kept his thirty men quiet till the first pirate boat was within fifty yards, when his crew jumped up and fired a volley of musketry into it. This novel reception so astonished the pirates that they gave up the pursuit.

Maludu Bay extends nearly thirty miles inland. The western shore, near the point, is rather flat, but soon rises into a succession of low hills; and as you penetrate deeper into the bay they swell to the proportion of mountains on both shores, and Kina Balu and its attendant ranges form a fine background to the end of the bay, which, for nearly four miles from the shore, shallows from about two fathoms to scarcely sufficient water to float a boat. By keeping the channel, however, the principal river may be reached. The land is quite swampy on both banks, mangrove jungle reaching to within a mile of the town, then nipa palms, mixed with a few forest trees; in fact, the whole of the head of the bay appears gradually filling up: the land obviously encroaching on the sea, the nipa palm gaining on the mangrove, which is spreading far out in the salt water on the flat muddy bottom. The rush of the current from these rivers is sometimes so great that we have found the whole head of the bay for five miles completely fresh, and the amount of earth held in suspension renders it of a white appearance. The houses are built on a narrow creek on the right-hand bank of the river; near the country is flat, but the mountains soon skirt the plains. The population of the bay is sufficient to render it a valuable commercial settlement for native traders, if security for life and property could be established, and if the monopolies of the chiefs could be destroyed. To show the insecurity, I may mention that in 1859 the Sultan of Brunei sent a trading prahu there with a valuable cargo. On the return voyage, just as they were leaving the mouth of the river Panchur, the vessel commenced leaking, and they had to land a part of the cargo. The supercargo returned to the town for assistance, and during his absence, a large party of men came into the river, drove away the crew, and carried off all the goods. They were not regular pirates, but a band of Sulus, who could not resist the temptation to plunder.

The monopolies of the chiefs, however, prevent any intercourse with the producing classes, and thus prevent the possibility of a large increase of trade.

I made many inquiries as to the amount of population which dwells in the districts bordering on this deep bay. I obtained from Sherif Hasan, the son of Sherif Usman, who formerly ruled these districts with a strong hand, a list of the number of Ida’an families who paid tribute to his father. I then inquired of the chief Datu Budrudin, of Sherifs Musahor, Abdullah, and Houssein, and of a number of traders, and their accounts do not greatly vary.

Sherif Usman received tribute from the following districts:—

Udat200families of Ida’an.
Milau200„  „
Lotong150„  „
Anduan50„  „
Metunggong300„  „
Bira’an100„  „
Tigaman250„  „
Taminusan50„  „
Bintasan——
Bingkungan60„  „
Panchur500„  „
„  „
Buñgan300„  „
Tandek1,500„  „
3,660families.
Add a third1,220families not paying revenue.
Total4,880families.

At six to a family, this would give nearly 30,000 people.

Comparing this statement with those given by the assembled chiefs, I find they slightly differ. They reckoned the population at 36,000 people; and I account for it, first, by Sherif Hasan not having given the population of Bintasan; and, secondly, by his only mentioning the number of families on the Buñgun who paid tribute to his father, there being above a thousand families who did not.

They all represented the district of Bengkoka, not included in the above list, as the most important and populous of all; it is on the eastern coast of the bay, and the river, though barred at the entrance, is reputed deep inside. Its population is stated at 16,000 Ida’an. The Malays and Sulus residing in all these districts are represented as not very numerous; in fact, as under 5,000, of whom 1,500 are at Panchur, 1,500 at Bengkoka, and the rest scattered at the various other villages. If the above figures represent the numbers, there are about 52,000 Ida’an on the banks of the rivers flowing into the bay, and about 5,000 strangers. They all, however, explained that, when they enumerated the Ida’an, they only spoke of those villages which were under the influence of the people of the coast, and that there were many tribes among the mountains with whom they had little intercourse.

I once met a party of these Ida’an; they were a dark, sharp-featured race, intelligent-looking, and appeared in features very much like the Land Dayaks of Sarawak. They were dressed in their war costume, consisting of heavy, padded jackets, but wore the chawat or cloth round their loins. They were slight and short men.

The productions of these districts consist of rattans, wax, camphor, tortoise-shell, tripang or sea-slug, and kaya laka, a sweet-scented wood. Large quantities of rice and tobacco are grown, and, if encouraged, these cultivations would greatly increase. The only minerals as yet discovered are coal in the Bengkoka River, and tin in some stream at the foot of the Kina Balu range. I saw specimens of the latter, but no one has ventured to work it yet. The insecurity would prevent the Chinese succeeding.

Starting from the head of Maludu Bay, and skirting the eastern shore, it is found to be shoal off Mobang Point, and on the next inlet, Teluk Mobañg, Sherif Usman endeavoured to establish a village; but while his people were clearing the forest, they were seized with severe vomitings, many dying; all arising, the Malays, confidently believe, from the machinations of the evil spirits who had been disturbed in their homes. Leaving the points of Taburi and Si Perak, we pass through the straits formed by the island of Banguey and the mainland. That Island is inhabited in the interior by Ida’an, but on the shore many Bajus assemble, collecting tortoise-shell and sea-slug, and they have built many houses near the peak. It was they who pillaged and burnt the Minerva, wrecked off Balambañgan, in November, 1848. I have mentioned the Mengkabong people having treacherously plundered a village on Banguey; the inhabitants consisted of their own race, mixed with a few Sulus and others. The islets to the south-west of Banguey are named Padudañgan (by the Sulus it is called Palarukan), and Patarunan. Indarawan is the name of a small river at the south of Banguey, where, it is said, sufficient good water may be procured to supply vessels. Passing between Mali Wali and a rock off the coast, the soundings are very variable, and the sea appears filled with sandbanks and shoals; in fact, for a frigate, the sea is not sufficiently clear of reefs till we arrive opposite Sandakan Bay.

Commencing from the north-eastern point of Borneo, we first come to a little bay called Batul Ayak, the only inhabitants of which are Bajus, who entirely reside in their boats. Then there is a small river called Kina (China) Bañgun: there are but few people residing there, wanderers with no settled dwellings. After that there is Kang Karasan, where there are probably not more than a couple of hundred Mahommedans, but the Dusuns in the interior are numerous: my informants knew of villages containing above three hundred families. The river Paitan is large and deep, and there are above a thousand Islams living here, and the Ida’an in the interior are represented to be as numerous as the leaves on the trees, and the slopes of the hills are covered with great forests of camphor-trees. I may observe that boxes made of camphor-wood prevent any insects meddling with woollen cloths, and are therefore very useful. Camphor has so powerful an aromatic smell, that it will drive every insect from its neighbourhood. Passing the stream of Babahar, which is small, and without inhabitants, we arrive at Sugut, to the north of the commencement of Labuk Bay; but it has also a small entrance to the south of it. The Islam population is represented as numerous, while seven thousand families of Ida’an reside in the interior; in consequence of their great superiority of numbers, their chiefs have great influence in those districts. A few elephants are caught here, but the principal exports are rattans, wax, and camphor. The north-east coast of Borneo, as far as the entrance of the Sugut River, is rather flat, only a few low hills occasionally diversifying the scene; but no sooner do you round the point, and enter Labuk Bay, than it presents a different aspect: the low hills gradually swell into mountains, one range of which is remarkably peaked—as jagged, from one view, as the edge of a saw. Kina Balu is visible along this coast, and from the eastern side the ascent appears feasible. A vessel steering along the shore finds it difficult, from the numerous shoals, while pretty islets are scattered about in every direction. If the Benggaya be approached in a direct line, the water gradually decreases from three to one and a half fathoms; but, keeping close into the front, it deepens to five, seven, and no bottom with a ten-fathom line. The country, as viewed from the mouth of this river, presents only mangrove jungle, with an occasional glimpse at the distant mountains: its entrance is very shallow, not deep enough at low tide to float a ship’s cutter. To reach the village of Benggaya, it is necessary to keep to the left-hand branch, avoiding the broad stream which stretches away to the right; but after ten miles the stream divides, and it is necessary to pass by the left-hand branch, and continue for about twenty miles farther up a most extraordinarily winding river before the houses are reached. This out-of-the-way situation is chosen to avoid the attacks of pirates. The banks of this river present a continued succession of mangrove and nipa swamp for many miles, only occasionally varied by dry land and fine forest trees. The stream winds in a most extraordinary manner, and at one place the reaches had met, and nothing but a fallen tree prevented a saving of two miles of distance. The inhabitants consist of a few Islams, called men of Buluñgan, doubtless fugitives from the Malay State of that name a couple of hundred miles farther south. There is an overland communication between Sugut and Benggaya, prepared by the latter in case of being suddenly surprised, as they have no interior to fly to, and consequently no Ida’an population.

The largest river which runs into this bay is the Labuk, which gives its name to the place. It has three entrances—Kalagan, small; Labuk, large; Sabi, small. Off its mouth is a place called Lingkabu, famous for its pearl fishery. The productions of this district are principally camphor, wax, rattans, and pearls, and the interior is reported to be well inhabited by the Ida’an. Next to it there is an insignificant village of Islams on the river Suñgalihut, and is only inhabited on account of the edible birds’ nests found in the interior.

Between the eastern point of Labuk Bay and the islands there is a three-fathom channel. The coast is low, with no marked features until we round the point, and the bluff islands of Sandakan Bay are visible. Then the land appears to rise gradually into pretty hills, presenting beautiful slopes for cultivation; but as we approach the entrances of the Kina Batañgan, the land again becomes low. Sandakan Bay itself is a splendid harbour, with a good supply of fresh water. It used to be well inhabited, but on one occasion the villages were surprised by the Balignini pirates, and sacked and burnt by them. The inhabitants who escaped the attack dispersed among the neighbouring communities, but every year strong parties of the surrounding people assemble there to collect the valuable products of the place, which consist of large quantities of white birds’ nests, pearls, wax, sea-slug, and the best kind of camphor.

About four or five years ago, Pañgeran, or Datu Mahomed, the ruler of Atas, became so unbearably tyrannical that a large section of the population determined to abandon their country, and hearing of the English settlement of Labuan, resolved to remove there. One of their principal men proceeded first to make arrangements for the others, who in the meantime made temporary dwellings in Sandakan Bay. He sailed round to the north-west coast, and unfortunately put into the Papar river for water. The chief of that district, Pañgeran Omar, detained him and forced him to send up his family to his house. Week after week passed, and they were still kept there, till information reached our colony, when the governor sent an officer to try and release these people, but his representations were treated with contempt, as he had no material force at his back; and the next thing I heard was that the Bornean chief had put the Atas man to death, on pretence that he was about to run amuck, and taken the wife and daughters into his harim, reducing the followers to slavery. When this intelligence reached Sandakan Bay, it is not surprising the fugitives did not venture on the inhospitable north-west coast. The whole affair might have been better managed on our part, and had proper representations been made to the admiral on the station, there is little doubt he would have considered himself authorized to interfere.

Passing this bay, we arrive at the many mouths of the Kina Batañgan river; the first, named Balabatang, is said to connect the river with the bay; the second is Trusan Abai, by which the first village may be reached in seven days. The deepest entrance is Tundong Buañgin, and in certain months, perhaps after the rainy season, it is said there is a channel with three fathoms; but in the dry weather the sand again collects and spoils the passage. It is seldom used, except by very large trading prahus, as it takes them thirty days to reach the first village. Judging by the time required by the Bornean boats to reach the town of Lañgusin, on the Baram river, during the rainy season, we may calculate that with the windings of the river, the first village must be about a hundred miles from the mouth. The Sulu prahus being heavier built, the Bornean ones used in the Baram trade would move a third faster. The first village on the banks is called Bras Manik. There are numerous hamlets beyond; in fact, the Kina Batañgan river is always spoken of as one of the most populous, and by far the most important on the north-eastern coast, and it is the one the Datus of Sulu watch with the most jealous attention. As this is the only country in Borneo where the elephants are numerous, it is the only one where ivory forms an important article of trade in the eyes of the natives. But the most valuable articles are the remarkably fine white birds’ nests and the camphor, which is collected in large quantities in the old forests which clothe the lofty mountains seen in the interior. Wax, sea-slug, very fine tortoise-shell, and also pearls, are the articles that render this trade so sought after. The tortoise-shell is collected on the many islands with broad sandy beaches that stud this quiet sea. My servant once found a packet ready prepared for sale left by some careless collector near the remains of a deserted hut. Turtle also frequent these islands; and one day, while walking along the beach with a blue-jacket, we saw a fine animal in shoal water. He sprang in, and after a vigorous struggle, in which his companions partly assisted, he turned the beast on his back and towed him ashore, to afford, next day, excellent turtle soup for the whole ship’s company. The natives generally despise rattans as articles of export, on account of their great bulk, otherwise they might collect sufficient to load many ships. The principal articles of import into these countries are gray shirtings, chintzes, red cloth, iron, steel, brass wire, beads, and powder and muskets. With opium, they say themselves, they are sufficiently supplied by the Lanun pirates, who obtain it from the prahus they capture among the Dutch islands.

Sigama is the next river, and has but a small population of Islams, though there are many Ida’an in the interior.

Cape Unsang is low and marked by few characteristic features, but on rounding the point becomes steadily prettier until we reach the Tungku river, when it presents a beautiful succession of low hills with the mountain of Siriki to the left, which is a good mark to discover the pirate haunt of Tungku. All the small rivers on the southern shore of Cape Unsang are barred, not admitting a ship’s barge at low-water—at least, we did not find deeper channels. I saw here a shark, the largest I have ever noticed: it swam to and fro in the shallow water, eyeing the English seamen who were dragging their boats over the sands, but it did not venture near enough to be dangerous. We were sitting in the gig a little to seaward and it passed and repassed within a few yards of us, and I thought it must have been fifteen feet in length, but the imagination is apt to wander on such occasions, and as it swam in very shallow water, it appeared to show more of its back than usual. As the officers and men were on particular service, no one attempted to put a ball into it. Tungku appeared a type of the neighbouring districts: near the sea it is flat, occasionally varied by a low hill. I walked several hours through this country, and never before saw more luxuriant crops; the rice stalks were over our heads, the sugar cane was of enormous girth, and the pepper vines had a most flourishing appearance: the soil must be of the very finest quality.

I have visited none of the districts on the east coast to the south of Tungku, but I heard that the people of Tidong, as of old, are troubling the neighbouring countries, as the Dayaks of Seribas and Sakarang did the north-west coast when I first reached Borneo. In sight of Cape Unsang, are many islands, at present the resort of the Balignini, as Tawi Tawi and Binadan. A chief from the former captured a Spanish schooner in 1859, and was reported to have found the daughter of the captain on board. The Spanish Government made many efforts to recover her; but by native report she still lives with her captor, Panglima Taupan, who treats her with every attention and considers her his principal wife. I heard last year she had borne a child to him, and was now unwilling to leave him.

The inhabitants of the north-east coast may be divided into Pagan and Mahomedan. The former are Ida’an, no doubt exactly similar to their countrymen found on the opposite coast; but at Sugut the natives affirm there is a tribe who have a short tail. I have elsewhere mentioned that my informant declared he had felt it: it was four inches long, and quite stiff; and that at their houses they were provided with seats with holes for this uncomfortable prolongation of the spine; the poorer people contented themselves with sitting on simple logs of wood, allowing the tail to hang over. It is quite possible there may have been some instances in a tribe, as I have heard that this deformity has been known in Europe; and from one or two would soon arise the story of the tribes with tails. I do not think I have mentioned elsewhere that I have seen Dayaks who carry little mats hanging down their backs, fastened to their waist-cloths, on which they sit: they always have them there, ready to be used. I at first thought that the story of the men with tails arose from the method of wearing the waistcloth adopted by some of the tribes: they twist it round their loins, and have one end hanging down in front, the other behind, but some so manage it that the resemblance to a tail at a little distance is remarkable, particularly when the men are running fast.

The Mahomedan population consists of Sulus, Bajus, and a few Lanuns, together with slaves, consisting of captives made by the pirates during their cruises among the various islands of the Archipelago, and sold at that great slave-mart, Sugh. The districts of the north-east coast are nearly all governed by chiefs from Sulu, or by the descendants of the Arab adventurers who all assume the title of Serib, or, more correctly, Sherif. They do their utmost to monopolize the trade, and do not hesitate to cut off any native prahus who may venture on that coast; and Europeans have avoided all connection with it for many years; the last attempt was made by a Mr. Burns, who lost life and ship in Maludu Bay in 1851.

END OF VOL. I

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