Boat-travelling
A boat being dragged through the rapids. The boatmen are wading in the water and dragging it along.
In certain parts of the lower reaches of the large Bornean rivers, where large sand-banks are to be found, the swift incoming spring-tide makes, soon after it has covered the sand-bank, a peculiar dangerous motion of the water, called by the natives langan. We all know the bubbling appearance of boiling water in an open pot, and if we picture to ourselves that kind of thing on a very large scale, it will give a good idea of what the langan is like. It does not last long in any particular part of the river, because, as soon as the water has risen and is deeper, the langan disappears. It is most dangerous. The peculiar motion of the water is so irregular and uncertain that small boats are easily swamped, and many lives have been lost owing to this langan. The part of the Batang Lupar near the village of Rawan is particularly dangerous from this cause. I have known of many cases of a Dyak boat being swamped by the langan there, and not a single person being saved. Though the Dyaks are good swimmers, the boat is rolled over by the swift current, and they have no chance of saving themselves. When I have had to travel past Rawan during the spring-tides when there is most danger, if the tide has only just made, I have thought it wisest not to run any risks, and have told my boatmen to fasten the boat to the bank, and wait for ten minutes, and not to proceed till there was no danger of being swamped by the terrible langan.
In the rapids up the rivers travelling is done in a “dug-out,” because that draws little water. The boat has a long cane or creeper tied to the bows, and when it has to be pulled over the rapids some of the men drag at this, while the others remain in the boat and work with their poles or small paddles. The skill with which the Dyaks pole the boat along, as they stand up in it, is beautiful to see. With a skilful turn of the pole they will guide the boat past some huge boulder which it seems impossible to avoid. The sensation to one sitting in a boat going over the rapids, either up or down stream, is not particularly pleasant. The boat is bumped and jerked about, and the water often splashes in. At times the boat will be propelled by poles; then, when the water is too shallow, the men jump out and walk by the side, pulling the boat along. When they get to deeper water, they jump in again.
The Dyaks are most excellent companions when travelling has to be done. They are hard-working and good-tempered, and most resourceful. When one is travelling in small “dug-outs” in the upper reaches of the river, it often happens that he has to spend some nights on the journey. If any Dyak house be near, the travellers make for it, knowing well that the hospitable inmates will gladly give them shelter. But sometimes they have to camp out on the river-bank. It is quite remarkable how well the Dyaks manage under such circumstances. I have always admired the way in which in a very short time wood and creepers are got from the jungle, and a little hut put up for me on a cleared spot on the river-bank. The creepers are used for tying the wood together; the kadjang from the boat is fastened up for the roof of the little hut; a flooring, two or three feet off the ground, is made of laths of wood tied together with creepers; my small cork boat mattress and curtain are fixed up; and in about an hour’s time I am safely lodged for the night. The Dyaks themselves are very hardy. They will wrap themselves up in their puah, or sheet, and sleep in the open air, sometimes on mats; but if there are no mats, they will make for themselves a bed of leaves on the ground, and think it no great hardship to sleep on this.
When travelling has to be done on foot, one has to walk on a Dyak jungle path, which consists of the trunks of the giants of the forest placed in a line. No attempt is made to hew the round trunks into an even upper surface, so one must walk carefully lest he slip off; for in some parts the bark on these tree-trunks is rotten, and in others there is a growth of wet slippery moss. Over the jungle streams there are Dyak bridges made, like the path, of the trunk of a tree, sometimes with a light hand-rail tied to it, sometimes not.
I have often travelled on foot through the jungle, accompanied by Dyaks carrying my baggage. We have walked in single file on these trunks of trees, and have listened to the weird jungle sounds—the creaking of giant trees, the strange cries of insects, or birds, or monkeys. And sometimes in the gathering darkness, when the storm-clouds have hurried overhead and the winds shrieked through the tree-tops in fierce discord, ruthlessly twanging the harp-strings of Nature, I have understood why it is that the Dyaks believe that the lone forests are inhabited by the spirits of the wind and the rivers, of the mountains and the trees.
No one can adequately realize the Equatorial Bornean jungle until he sees it in all its wonder—the heated steamy stillness broken by weird sounds, the colossal trees, the birds with brilliant plumage, and the infinite variety of monkeys among the branches, sitting, hanging by hands or tails, leaping, grimacing, jabbering, as they see the strange sight of human beings invading their domains.
What are the wild animals that the traveller is likely to meet as he walks through the jungle? The animal life of Borneo is akin to that of Sumatra or Java, but with certain differences. Borneo is free from tigers, and this is fortunate, for travelling through the forests would be dangerous indeed if tigers were likely to be encountered. The only wild animals to be met with are the small and comparatively harmless tree-tiger, and the small brown honey-bear, but neither of them is much feared. There are, of course, ferocious crocodiles in the rivers, and many varieties of snakes, varying in size from the python downwards. But the cobra, so much dreaded in India, is not met with in Borneo, and death from a snake-bite is very rare. The elephant and the rhinoceros seem to be confined to the north end of the island. There is the great man-like ape—the orang-utan, or maias, as it is called by the Dyaks. It is only found in a limited area, in the territory between the Batang Lupar and the Rejang Rivers. As a rule, this animal does not exceed the height of four feet two inches, though there are stories told of its attaining a far greater size. The height, however, gives a poor idea of the animal’s bulk and strength. The body is as large as that of an average man, but the legs are extremely short. Its arms are of great length, and measure over seven feet in spread. The whole body is covered with long red hair. It rarely attacks man, but when provoked is very ferocious, and as its strength is very great, it is a foe not to be despised. There are numerous wild boars in the jungle, but they never attack the traveller, and are not a source of danger.
The vegetation of Borneo is rich and varied. By the seashore and at the mouths of the rivers there grows the nipa palm, “the tree of a thousand uses.” The young leaves are used for making kadjangs, the awnings with which Dyak boats are covered. The old leaves are made into attap for the roofs and walls of their houses. From the blossom a sweet drink is obtained, and this is converted into sugar. From the ashes of the burnt stump of this palm salt is obtained. As one travels up a Bornean river the nipa palms become less and less plentiful, and one finds the banks covered with mangroves. These trees thrive on the muddy banks. A network of roots grows out of the stem several feet above the soil, and keeps them firm. At night these mangroves are lit up by myriads of fireflies. The missionary stationed at Banting many years ago had all the mangrove-trees, except one on each side of his landing-place, cut down, and on the darkest night there was no difficulty in knowing where his boat was to stop. These two trees, covered with fireflies, were not to be mistaken in the surrounding darkness.