CHAPTER XIII.
KINA BALU, viâ TAMPASSUK.
Preparations—“Salaamat jelan,” or safe voyage—Contrary winds—A total wreck—A sea bath—Making the best of it—Native visitors from the Bornean shore—Drying stores—Pigeon shooting—Foraging—Football—Tent life—A new boat—A marine visitor—Pulo Tiga—A fish dinner—Shore plants—Big fish—The Tampassuk—“The Fatted Calf”—Start for Kina Balu—Bare hills—Land culture—Bad roads—Ghinambaur village—Textile fibres—A chance shot—Thrifty natives—Buffalo riding—A friendly chief—Sineroup—Native wealth—Charms—Crossing swollen river—New Orchids—Kambatuan—Rokos—Butterflies—Koung Green—Aboriginals from the interior—Pretty weeds—Lemoung’s death—Native ornaments—Native cloth—Bee keeping—How to manage “guides”—“Kurow”—Start for “Kina Balu”—Sleeping rock—Dusun cookery!—New plants—More of the “guide” nuisance.
It was now the end of July, and I had been waiting four or five days, expecting the arrival of the steam-ship Far East, in which I had hoped to have again taken a passage, with my friend, Captain W. C. Cowie; but as his vessel was now overdue, and my own time was limited, I resolved to leave in a native boat at all hazards. I soon chartered a prahu, large enough to carry twenty men, and our stores; and on July 31st I was ready to start. I had given my Chinese “boy,” Kimjeck, and the men orders to have all in readiness; but when I reached the little jetty, at two P.M., I found only half the men there, the remainder being as busy as bees on shore, running in and out of the Chinese shops, buying betel-nut, salt, dried fish, onions, and other private stores for the voyage. As soon as they saw me, however, they came running down, and we all went on board. Altogether our craft was heavily laden; but as these native boats are generally carefully built, we saw nothing to fear.
At 3.30 we bade our friends, who had kindly come down to see us start, “good-bye;” and, amid the cries of “Salaamat jelan!” from the men’s friends on shore, we hove anchor, and sheered off with a tolerably good wind. We soon got our large mat-sail hauled up, and with the Union Jack astern (we carried the “mails” for Tampassuk by the way), glided out of the harbour, and, rounding the old flagstaff-point, steered nearly due north. We did this, intending to stand out, and make “Pulo Tiga,” an island lying about forty miles northward of Labuan, by the morning. In this, however, we were doomed to disappointment; for after an hour or two of indifferent sailing, a bit of a squall arose, and the wind having changed, we hove in shore, towards Lumbedan, intending to anchor under the shelter of a little islet of the same name for the night, and start away in the early morning.
This was now the only judicious course left us, since we were close in-shore, on a dangerous coast, and the squall of wind and rain was coming down on us like a hurricane. Our men pulled in around the island, and were approaching the shore, to enable us to land, when the boat rose a little on the surf, and the next moment her bows came down on a rock, and this knocked a large hole in her bottom. We subsequently found out that all her lower timbers were rotten. Happily we were not far from the land, and could make ashore, or the consequences might have been serious. As it was we suffered enough, being drenched with rain and surf; and as the boat rolled about, and filled rapidly, most of our things got drenched likewise. As is usual with Malays on such occasions, there was a great deal of excitement, and everybody shouted orders or instructions to his neighbour.
However, Smith, an excellent fellow Mr. Boosie had allowed to accompany me, and one or two natives, handed out our clothes and personal effects, which others carried ashore, after which we got out the bags of rice, and other stores all safely, and having emptied the craft of all her loose gear, we hauled her up on the smooth sandy beach, and then, as it was getting dusk, set about preparing ourselves a habitation for the night. Some of the men were sent to cut firewood, others to cut timbers for our hut; others went to search for water, while my “boy,” hastily securing a few dry sticks, lighted a fire, and began preparing our evening meal.
We had with us plenty of the common “kajang” mats, which may be purchased in Labuan for a few pence each, and serve admirably for roofing boats, or the little jungle-houses, for which a Malay will cut and fix timbers in a few minutes. We had also a good oil-cloth, twelve feet square; and in less than an hour after our shipwreck we had a roomy tent erected in which to eat and sleep. We soon got on some dry clothes, and then had our bedding placed at one end, with our baggage piled up behind, and at the other end our rice and dried fish, goods for barter with the natives, and other stores, were arranged. The guns, rifle, and the tower-muskets, carried by the men, together with our revolvers, &c., were cleaned, and oiled, and suspended overhead; and the lamp being lighted, and hung in the centre, we began to look quite cheerful.
We had our dinner about seven o’clock, and then a smoke and a chat over our misadventure. Several men came over from the opposite coast of Lumbedan, where there are a few native houses, to look at us; and I asked them to bring over a boat in the morning, which they very civilly promised to do. About nine o’clock we sought our blankets, and turned in for the night, and slept well, notwithstanding our recent mishap.
August 1st.—We were all astir by daybreak this morning; and, after having had our customary cup of coffee and dry toast, we set our followers to work to spread out the wet rice on mats in the sun, and to rearrange all our stores. Some of the men were sent to cut down “nebong” palms, the young tops of which form a delicious vegetable when boiled, and others were employed in cleaning our arms, cutting fire-wood, and other necessary work. While this was going on, I took my gun, and went out on a stroll around our little island. The vegetation I found was rather dense, and the whole surface rocky. I noticed several species of palms, and an epiphytal fern or two, and plants of the white-flowered Dendrobium crumenatum hung here and there on the trees.