At this time the most absurd tales about the tamarau were in circulation. I was solemnly assured by one group of persons, who claimed to have seen it, that it had only one horn which grew out of the top of its head. Others were certain that it had two horns and but a single eye.
We did not anticipate the good fortune of discovering either a unicorn or a cyclops, but thought that there must be something behind all of these remarkable stories.
After undergoing many hardships and performing much hard work, our party succeeded in taking five individuals, the first ever killed and properly preserved.
The best way to hunt these wary and dangerous animals is to pick up a fresh trail early in the morning along some water course where they come to drink during the night, and follow it as noiselessly as possible. One is liable to jump the game at any moment. I shall never forget my astonishment when, on climbing up a steep river bank and diving into a tunnel through runo grass, I nearly fell over an old bull. Ordinarily, however, no such luck awaits one. It is frequently necessary to trail the quarry five or ten miles before one comes up with it, and then the usual reward, after crawling through underbrush and wriggling along on the ground, bitten by ants and mosquitoes, torn by thorns and covered with pestiferous land leeches, is to hear a terrific crash in the brush and never so much as catch a glimpse of the animal which makes it. The tamarau sleeps during the day, almost invariably lying down in the densest of jungle growth, facing back upon its own trail. Furthermore, it is uncommonly likely to put a bend in that trail before lying down, so that while one is still a mile or two from it by the line which it followed, it may in reality be not more than fifty or a hundred yards away.
Old-style Road across Lowlands.
Tracks of this sort become completely impassable during the rainy season.
New-style Road across Lowlands.
Roads like this are passable at all times.