Returning at Low Water
It was a curious sight, the long boat, pushed by fifty or sixty natives and about a dozen Europeans, now in the water, now almost out of it. More than once I thought the natives must have been jammed between the bank and the boat when they slipped into a deep hole, and the great length of the prahu prevented her from turning quickly. At the nest-hunters' landing-place we found ourselves fairly high and dry, and had to be carried, prahu and all, for some little distance until we reached the deeper water beyond, only to find our further passage blocked by the trunk of a huge tree, so firmly imbedded in the mud that the united efforts of our large band of followers were powerless to move it. We had therefore to be pulled and hauled over the obstacle—a feat accomplished with much shouting and hullabaloo. First our long sharp prow rose in the air, submerging our stern, and taking, of course, some water on board; then the process was reversed, and we went bows under. At last we emerged quite safely and in deep water. Most of the swarm of swimmers quickly scrambled into the boat and converted themselves into paddlers, while the remainder swam ashore and either waited on the bank for the return of the prahu or shouldered their kajang mats and cooking-utensils, and trudged off again through the swampy jungle to the little rest-house which we had quitted a short time before. In the fast-fading twilight the scene looked picturesque and characteristic.
Resuming our now rapid voyage down the stream, we presently reached the spot where our own boats were waiting for us. Mabelle and I at once took possession of the cutter, the gentlemen of the steam-launch, and all proceeded, as far as circumstances would allow, to change our wet and dirty clothes. Then we joined company, and as soon as the prahu had discharged all her passengers and cargo our little flotilla proceeded in the original order down the river. On the way we enjoyed a capital little dinner, commencing with small fish about three inches long speared by a boat-hook, and concluding with quite the most delicious pine I ever tasted, grown in the experimental gardens of Silam.
At last we reached the mouth of the river, and were once more on the bosom of the open sea. Rather an agitated bosom it was too, just now, heaving in such a manner as to toss the cutter about a good deal and threatening to completely upset the native boat with its heavy load. In fact, the prahu behaved in the most alarming manner, absolutely refusing to steer, and turning broadside on to the constantly increasing swell. Our native pilot, too, in the steam-launch, did not mend matters by steering a very erratic course, and going a good deal further out to sea than was necessary. The islands, however, soon afforded shelter, and the moon rose over a scene of comparative calmness and repose. Most of us took advantage of this condition of things to rest a little after the labours of the day, and we found ourselves actually alongside the yacht before we had any idea we were near her. It was exactly half an hour after midnight, and Tom was delighted and greatly relieved to see us, having quite abandoned all hope of our appearing until the morning, and having conjured up all sorts of gloomy forebodings as to the ill-effect of sleeping in mangrove swamps, besides attacks from hostile natives, and other horrors. The three gentlemen went off in our launch, towing the prahu, after receiving our warm thanks for the great trouble which they had taken, to which we were entirely indebted for the success of a most interesting expedition. With a grateful heart for pleasure enjoyed and difficulties overcome, I went to bed, completely worn out, at the end of what may fairly be regarded as another red-letter day of the present cruise.
Tom had been unable to accompany us on our expedition, considering it a public duty to put together the very interesting information which had been communicated to him by the authorities charged with the administration of affairs at the numerous ports at which we had touched on the coast of Borneo. He wished to complete his work, so that it might be read to Governor Treacher before being despatched to England. [This paper appeared in the 'Nineteenth Century.']