During our journey to and from the mountain, we met occasional parties of natives from the far interior on their trading excursions, the women, as a matter of course, carrying the heaviest loads, while the men carried nothing, save a little food in a bag behind them, and their arms. Some had buffaloes with them. The women, as a class, are strong and healthy, with small hands and feet, and well-proportioned features—indeed, in many cases, the young girls are very pleasing in face and figure, and have lovely black hair, and the brightest of expressive black eyes. Early marriages, childbearing, hard labour, and exposure in the fields, however, soon make shrivelled leather-skinned old hags of them. Their drapery is nothing worth mentioning, and in such a climate but little is required. Their manners are gentle and dignified—often when we met them quite suddenly they showed no surprise, even though they had never seen a white man before. They make affectionate wives, and tender mothers—indeed, I never saw a child beaten or chided roughly during my stay in the island.
In the capital and elsewhere on the coast, young Malay women are almost invariably kept secluded from the gaze of strangers; but here among these hills inland, as elsewhere among the aboriginals proper, we found the women enjoying perfect freedom with the men.
While staying at these villages, all the women and girls flocked to see us, and watched us eat and drink with evident interest. The young girls were especially confident, and formed laughing groups around us, chatting to each other in low, modulated tones, and evidently comparing notes on their observations. They frequently brought us little presents of fruit, and eggs, or fowls, and were delighted with the needles and thread, looking-glasses, and white cloth which we gave them in return. Some of the younger girls were much handsomer than the Malays, and stood lovingly together as they quizzed us, often resting their plump little arms or their cheeks on each other’s necks or shoulders as they watched our every movement.
Looking-glasses were considered fashionable at the time of our visit, and we could have disposed of many more with advantage had we had them with us. Combs were not so desirable, since these are made by their husbands or sweethearts; and they are often very prettily decorated with carved work.
Some of the men seem “thoroughly domesticated,” and I saw them affectionately nursing their naked little babies at night, or in the daytime, while mamma had gone to the field for food, or the forest for fuel. I particularly noticed the younger married men standing behind their nice little wives at night when we were at dinner. They folded their brown arms around their necks, and whispered loving gossip into their ears, evidently well contented with themselves and with each other; and, perhaps, their love is as real and as ardent and as true here as it is in high places where dress clothes are worn. The farther one travels, the more plainly does one see how deep rooted and how world-wide are all the springs of human feeling, whether of love and joy, or death and sadness; in every land and in every breast is written the great truth, “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”
One night after dinner a bevy of dusky beauties had gathered around our mats, and to afford some amusement, I showed them several carte de visite portraits of friends which I had with me. They were particularly interested in that of one lady, and examined it very attentively; not a bead or button escaped their quick eyes; but they soon began asking questions. Was she married? How many children had she? Was she a good wife? I asked what they meant by the last question. “Well,” they answered, “did she bring plenty of firewood and kaladi in? and could she clean padi (rice) well?” Thus a woman among these thrifty villagers earns her good name as a wife by her capacity for physical labour. This is also so among other savage races. The Indian girls on the north-west coast of North America in like manner endeavour to excel each other in the quantity of quamash (Camassia esculenta) roots they collect, their fame as future good wives depending on their activity in the Quamash plains. They were much interested in all particulars of dress as shown by the carte; but one girl regretted the absence of rattan coils around the stomach and “chawats” of thick brass wire on the wrists, and more to the like effect, all from the Kiau standpoint—for Kiau and its simple fashions are held to be inviolable. Kiau is all the world to them!
The morning we left, I believe all were sorry to part with us, and they came to the top of the hill to see us off. On loading our men, we found that we had four men’s loads of plants more than our men could carry, and so we engaged some of the Kiau villagers to carry them for us as far as Bawang. We had a good deal of talking, and a grand display of red cloth and brass wire on the hillside, but eventually “Musa” concluded the bargain, and paid over the goods in advance, as is the general custom here.
After receiving the goods, they coolly told us they should not go on with us, as we walked very slow, but that they would start next day, adding, that they should reach Bawang before we did. We showed no signs of wishing otherwise, but passed on with our followers, after having told the Kiau men to water the plants well as they crossed the streams, and to protect them from the sun by means of large leaves, all of which they did; and when we reached Bawang, there, sure enough, were our plants, all safe and in good condition.
After reaching Labuan, both Mr. Veitch and myself had bad attacks of intermittent fever, the result of chilling exposure in wet clothes, and ill-cooked food, accompanied by more than ordinary exertions. Fortunately our long and difficult journey had been interrupted by nothing serious, and we were glad to see our native followers safe home again. Certainly one of them had a nasty fall from a rocky path near Bawang and cut his head badly, but he was a plucky Brunei man, and soon overgot his trouble. Another of our fellows who had been trusted with a musket tried to fire it off after he had blocked up the barrel by pushing it into the ground accidentally! He succeeded in exploding the thing, and one of the fragments cut open his forehead, while another piece struck one of the bird-hunters on the arm. No serious damage was done. The road from Gaya Bay to Koung is so hilly and difficult for loaded men to traverse, that I determined that if ever I went to Kina Balu again I would take the Tampassuk route. This I did on a subsequent occasion, but during the wet season, when fording, the swollen rivers presented great difficulties and dangers. During the dry season, or say, in January or February, this route would be by far the best to follow.