The Gardens of the Sun / A naturalist's journal on the mountains and in the forests and swamps of Borneo and the Sulu Archipelago

by F. W. Burbidge

I noticed an excellent breed of black and white dogs at this village, in build not unlike a fox-terrier, but larger. These people evidently desired to keep the breed pure; for I noticed that all the dogs in the place were the same. A clear stream ran past the front of our house, and we were glad to get a bath before dinner. In this stream were at least two species of little fish, the largest rarely exceeding three inches in length, being beautifully spotted with dark brown on their sides. We felt deliciously cool after bathing, and ate our dinner comfortably, on seats we extemporised just outside our door.

After a smoke, in the cool of the evening, we prepared our sleeping gear, and turned in for the night. We were up at sunrise, and bathed in the little stream, while my friend’s servant and our men prepared breakfast. We left some of our less needful gear in charge of the headman, and then shouldering our guns, we set out for the mountain, a good ten mile walk, over bad roads, and the last three or four miles is stiff climbing most of the way. Altogether it took us about six hours to accomplish, as we started at about seven o’clock in the morning, and reached the hut at the top a little after one P.M.

The first mile or two the path lies through gambier patches; and at one of the clearings we flushed a couple of fire-back pheasants, but we were too far off to get a shot at them. Their plumage shone resplendently in the morning sunlight, as they rose with the “whir-r-r,” so familiar to sportsmen nearer home. A tolerably level jungle path succeeds the gambier patches for two or three miles further, and then the path commences, leading up the mountain-side.

Our first stopping place was at some distance up the base of the rise, where a bit of folded paper in a split stick directed us to the “Lady Jervoise Falls;” and, as we stood quietly, the sound of the falling water fell on our ears from the left-hand side of the path. We soon plunged down the slope, and reached them, but were rather disappointed, as all the water visible was a brook rushing down a rocky gully, and falling a distance of five or six feet over into a water-worn basin below. The water was clear and cool, and we took advantage of it to secure a bath in the shade of the tall trees overhead. The rocks were beautifully draped with ferns and mosses; and a small species of anæctochilus grew here and there on the mossy rocks. Its leaves were of a rich velvety-green colour, netted with golden veins.

We sat here, and rested awhile, the cool splash of the water sounding pleasantly as it fell into the spreading limpid pool at our feet. Here, for the first time, I made the acquaintance of the jungle leech, a most energetic thing, which neglects no opportunity of taking its sanguinary toll from the passing traveller. Several of them fixed themselves on our legs, the first notice of their unwelcome presence being the oozing of our blood through our white trowsers. Their first bite is rarely felt; and very often, as I afterwards found, it is only by their gorged bodies feeling cold to the skin, that their presence becomes known.

The road from the falls to the summit is in places very steep, and the muscles of one’s legs feel it ere the end of the journey is reached. Many of those who read of jungle travel at home will be sure to imagine it very pleasant to explore a tropical forest, accompanied by a posse of native guides and carriers—with gun on shoulder, and luxuriant vegetation on all sides, and an occasional shot at a big monkey or a beautiful bird overhead. So of a truth it is, but in common with all other pleasures it has its drawbacks. After three or four hours hard walking, varied by a rest now and then, and a few stumbles, we reached the summit, and we luckily were rewarded by a most beautiful view. The atmosphere was clear, and in all directions a vast billowy sea of jungle stretched below us—foam-like flecks of white cloud being visible here and there on the top of the low coast hills.

We found the little hut on the summit rather out of repair, but a little labour in strengthening the principal supports of the roof, and the addition of a little palm-leaf thatch, made it more comfortable. We enjoyed a magnificent sunset, and lit our lamps just at dusk, nor were we loath to make a hearty meal of warm soup, rice and tea, which had been prepared while we looked around our camping ground. After a smoke and a chat we wrapped our rugs around us and were soon asleep on the side benches of sticks covered with freshly-cut palm-leaves. We were awoke during the night by the rain dripping through the roof, but managed to keep ourselves dry by suspending our waterproof sheets overhead. We awoke at daybreak, but could see nothing but a mass of snow-white clouds below us on all sides. After breakfast we started on a collecting tour down the mountain side, and soon struck a deep gully, through which a streamlet washed over the water-worn stones and pebbles.

Here we found one or two very interesting aroids (Schismatoglottis), and ferns were abundant, notably two or three species of lindsayas, their bold fronds being of a rich green colour, shot with steel-blue. Dipteris Horsfieldii clothed the rocky declivities of the gorge here and there, and a large-urned variety of Nepenthes ampullaria was strikingly luxuriant, growing along the edges of wet mossy rocks. Tiny plants only three or four inches in height and half buried in wet moss, decayed leaves, and other forest débris, bore eight or ten pitchers four inches in height and three inches in diameter. N. Rafflesiana, an allied species, we saw clambering up the thick undergrowth to a height of twenty or thirty feet, but the pitchers were not larger than ordinarily are produced by the plant when grown in our hothouses at home. A large branching species of gleichenia grows luxuriantly near the top of this mountain, and seems to replace G. dichotoma, which is so common in Singapore and Pulo Penang. Orchids were sparingly represented by a cœlogyne, and one or two other genera, but nothing of interest was observable. A form of our own Pteris aquilina grew luxuriantly around the hut where the forest had been cleared. A dracæna, with green undulate foliage, almost grassy in its tenuity, and the variegated Cissus porphyrophyllus were plentiful, and a red-veined echites covered mossy trunks beside the stream.

We returned from our collecting about 5 o’clock, tired and wet through—a very common thing indeed in a tropical forest, so that we were glad to strip to the skin and have a bath, followed by a rub dry with coarse towels, and dry clothes. Our dinner of tinned soup and boiled beef was very acceptable, and our cook made a very appetising curry of dried fish and a few chilies collected from bushes which grew in the clearing around our hut, seeds having been sown either designedly or accidentally by former visitors. A cup of tea and a cigar were deliciously soothing after the rough falls and scrambling of the day. We were disappointed with the place as a collecting ground, and resolved to return to the richer forest of the lower slopes near Kanka Ah Tong on the morrow. Our guides gave us an account of this mountain, and assured us that tigers were not uncommon, and that the Chinamen were frequently carried off by them when working in clearings near the forest. Wild pigs, monkeys, and deer, are plentiful. The Argus and fire-back pheasant are found here, and alligators of enormous size are reported as frequenting the rivers further inland.

After dinner we made up a large fire outside the hut, dragging all the fallen trunks in the vicinity to it, for we scarcely relished the idea of a “man-eater” lurking in the neighbourhood, who might wish to vary his diet. These burned brightly all through the night, although at times it rained heavily, and served for cooking purposes in the morning. We descended about eight o’clock, staying here and there to collect plants and flowers on the way. We reached the “Falls” about 10 o’clock, and I looked around for plants, while my friend bathed, and the men rested themselves awhile. “Shall you not bathe?” he asked me. I replied, “I’ll just wash my face and hands presently, and let that suffice until we reach Ah Tong.” We were just about to return to the path when a pretty fern I had not before observed attracted my attention, growing on a bit of jutting rock overhanging the Falls. I borrowed a chopper from one of the men, and clambered up the rocks, but to reach it I had to stride across the stream just where it falls over the boulders. I had secured my prize and was turning to leap back when slip! bump! splash! I went, plants, chopper, and all, into the water-worn basin below. When I regained the surface I was washed down again like a cork by the weight of water pouring down from above, but the next time I struck out for the side and crawled out like a half-drowned rat. My friend and our Malays had a hearty laugh over my misadventure, and I was fortunately not injured in any way. I took off my clothes and wrung them as near dry as possible and then put them on again, and it is astonishing what an excellent substitute wet clothes so treated are when dry ones are not procurable, especially if they can be dipped in sea water and again wrung dry. We walked on rapidly, staying here and there in open places where the vegetation was especially luxuriant to collect such plants as interested us. About 1 o’clock we reached Kanka Ah Tong, and I took the opportunity of at once having another bath—not an accidental one this time—and of getting into dry clothes. I also took a dose of quinine in a glass of brandy-and-water, and felt no ill effects from my accident and long walk in wet clothing.