KINA BALU, OR CHINESE WIDOW MOUNTAIN.
Journey to Kina Balu—Visit to Pangeran Rau—Agricultural implements—Sea Gipsies—Datu of the Badjows—Musa—Fertile plain—River-side gardens—Women gardeners—Fording the Tawaran—Bawang—Good scenery—Si Nilau—Kalawat—Rat-traps—A wet journey—Bungol—Koung village—Native traders—Rice culture—Kiau—Hiring of guides—Ascent of Kina Balu—A curious breakfast—Rare plants en route—Mountain flowers—Large pitcher plants—A cave dwelling—Scarcity of water—Mountain orchids—Cool climate—Slippery descent—Lost in the forest—Return to Kiau—Native produce—Journey to Marie Parie Spur—Return to the coast—Native women of the interior—Hire of native boat—Return to Labuan.
On the 29th of November, just as the dry season was commencing in Labuan, Mr. Peter Veitch (who had a few days before joined me after his travels in Australia and the Fiji Islands) and myself started off on a journey to Kina Balu, which we intended to reach by way of the Tawaran river. We had with us twenty-six men and two bird-hunters, so that we formed a rather imposing party of thirty, all told. The men were armed with native parangs or swords; some had krisses, and eight or ten carried muskets with which we had provided them. We embarked our men, stores, and travelling gear on board a little coast-steamer bound for Sulu, and the following morning we arrived at Pulo Gaya, and the captain lowered another boat in addition to the one we had brought with us, and put us all safely ashore near Gantisan in Gaya Bay. We waited here at a Roman Catholic Catechist’s Station for some time, and I ascended to the summit of the grass-covered hills northwards. These are forest-covered below, the nebong palm being very abundant, and attaining large dimensions.
The hill-tops above, which look so smooth and green when seen from the sea, are found to be clad with coarse “lallang” grass a yard high, among which the men who accompanied me pointed out several deer lairs. Fresh green tufts of Cheilanthes tenuifolia grew in the crevices of the decomposed sandstone, and among the clumps of nebong palm; a singular fern, Schizæa digitata, was very plentiful.
Returning, we re-arranged our baggage, and sending our boat round to Pangeran Rau’s place at Kalombini, by sea, we and the majority of the men started over the ridge of the wooded hill on foot. It was a stiff climb in the hot sun, the path being both steep and rough. In descending to the plain on the other side we shot three large swallows and a crimson and blue-painted barbet; we were also fortunate in finding a pretty pink-flowered zingiberad in bloom. The flat plain into which we descended was partly cultivated, and the rice especially looked strong and healthy. Fine buffaloes were also grazing here.
We reached Pangeran Rau’s house at three o’clock, and had the usual bichari or talk, arm-chairs and mats being at once brought into the head-house on our arrival. Some of the women were busy pounding the rice to separate it from the husk; and one or two ran away shrieking at our approach—it was simply affectation, and not fright. We found the Pangeran rather reserved, but hospitably inclined. He was a gray-haired old fellow of over sixty, and spoke but little, asked no questions, and spent most of his time sitting cross-legged on a mat drinking tea, chewing limed “sirra” leaf and betel, or smoking long cigarettes of tobacco rolled in nipa leaf, all being brought to him from time to time by little Malay boys. The head-house was soon filled with men from the other houses, who flocked in to see us and to hear the news from Labuan of our followers. We rested a little, and then walked out to obtain a bath before dinner. Some natives directed us to a spring about half a mile off across the plain, which here, near the houses, is of sand covered with coarse sedges and scrub. We passed two or three palm-leaf cottages on our way; and here I noticed the first implement of agriculture I saw in Borneo. It was a wooden harrow; and a native seeing me interested in it, pointed to a rude iron-shod plough which hung in a large mango tree near one of the huts.
A good many of the people who live here are Badjows or “sea gipsies,” so called from their habit of wandering about from place to place in boats, in which they seem more thoroughly at home than in the wretched huts they now and then build on shore. They are essentially lazy, and will not walk a yard if they can get a buffalo or anything having four legs to carry them. We saw two Badjow boys going to the spring for water, and they both rode on a buffalo calf, which seemed used to its mischievous load. We returned to dinner at dusk, and managed to get a good night’s rest here, as the houses were cool, being built over the water, and the mosquitoes were not nearly so bloodthirsty as usual.
Our boat did not come round until nearly ten the following morning. We had been up since sunrise, and had our breakfast; so, when our craft appeared, we borrowed a boat and a couple of men from the Pangeran, and left for the Badjow village on the Menkabong. We reached that place about noon in a drenching shower, and our guides assured us that further progress that day was impossible. We therefore had our things brought up into the head-house and soon made ourselves comfortable. We had brought two dozen fine pomoloes with us from Labuan, and the ripe ones were now really excellent in flavour; and we thoroughly enjoyed this delicious fruit for dessert after a frugal luncheon of bread and dried fish. About four o’clock the rain ceased, and the sun shone beautifully, so we took our guns, and went ashore for an hour to shoot. We secured a few pigeons and other birds, returning to dinner at sunset. Mr. Veitch lost his watch among the long grass, but was fortunate enough to find it on retracing his steps.
We arose at day-break the following morning, and started off, reaching the market-place on the Tamparulie plain about seven o’clock. A large market of fruit, fish, vegetables, rice, and other native produce, was being held, and on landing we met with the Datu in whose village we had remained last night. We told him the object of our presence in his territory, and found him agreeable, although not nearly so dignified as Pangeran Rau. He sent off one of his men to fetch us some fruit, and he soon returned with a basket of fine langsat, in return for which we gave him a couple of pomoloes, and we afterwards smoked a cigar together while our men unloaded the boats. We tried to hire two or three men from him; but as he was very extortionate in his demands as to payment for them and a buffalo-sledge which we wished to load with rice for our men, we cut the matter short by refusing his assistance at any price. We sent back the Pangeran’s boat, and giving our men as much rice each as they could carry, we returned the rest to the other boat and left two men in charge until our return. I am inclined to think his greed was excited by seeing the cloth and goods we had as the men unloaded the boat.
We now found out the value of the man “Musa,” whom we had engaged to superintend our men. He was an old man, but still powerful and active, and he possessed the secret of persuasion to the utmost degree. Under his direction the men were all loaded equally, and to their individual satisfaction, and we set off towards Tamparulie. We saw a pretty white-flowered cucurbit growing over bushes here and there, and bearing spindle-shaped fruits of a scarlet colour and about two inches long. Here and there also the red-berried spikes of an amorphophallus were seen among the tall grass. I and Veitch shouldered our guns, and pushed on across a low grassy plain inhabited for the time by a few black water buffaloes, and then came a long march in single file across a series of wet rice or padi fields, the paths through which were scarcely a foot broad, very uneven, and being of pure clay, the last night’s rain had made them as slippery as wet soap. We who had only our guns to carry found it rather hard work floundering about on the greasy tracks; but the men were in good spirits, and a march of about two hours brought us to the Tawaran, close to the village of Tamparulie which stands on its banks.