“Beuhan” sent two men with us as guides to Sineroup. This was a great gain to us, as they knew the road well, and conducted us by what I may call the “overland route,” that is, by the hill-paths, and in this way we avoided three or four of the worst crossings. We found the walking very rough and fatiguing, especially in the close gullies we had now and then to cross. About ten o’clock we reached the village of Bundoo on the opposite hill, and here, while awaiting our men, I sketched the top crags of the great mountain, of which we obtained an excellent view, and also made a sketch of some Dusun tombstones on the little village green. While waiting, a woman brought us two young cocoanuts and put them down before us, so that we might drink, which we were glad to do, as it was very hot to-day. We gave her a looking-glass, which she evidently considered a good price for her fruit. I found these Tampassuk Dusun far more inclined to be hospitable than their brethren of the Tawaran.
We passed several tiny hill villages to-day, and some of them had a neat bamboo-fence and a stile at the entrance with notched sticks for steps. Some of the houses are surrounded by luxuriant gardens, each of which contains kaladi, Indian corn, a castor-oil plant (Ricinus) or two, cotton bushes, and in each there is invariably a clump of cocoanut trees, and three or four slender-stemmed betel-nut palms, while here and there old stumps are verdant with the betel pepper, the leaves of which are chewed along with bits of betel-nut, and a few condiments, such as lime—made from coral reef or shells—and gambier. Here and there, too, the red-fruited rose-apple or jambosa was seen. We reached Sineroup about 3.30, and singularly enough have not had a drop of rain all day. “Gantang,” the Orang Kaya, was glad to see us, and pointed with pride to the new garments he wore, made from the cloth he had earned by accompanying us to Kiau.
KINA BALU FROM GHINAMBAUR (EVENING).
August 22nd.—We left Sineroup and its hospitable headman this morning, after having arranged with him for a guide and another buffalo as far as Ghinambaur. We descended the hill, and after crossing the river two or three times, which was easily done now, since no rain had fallen yesterday, we were surprised by meeting a young Labuan man—whom I had formerly employed. He was a handsome young fellow named “Sallia,” a relative of poor old Musa, and from him I heard that Mr. Pretyman, accompanied by Mr. Dobree, a Ceylon coffee planter, were following, and that their object was to proceed to “Kina Balu” in search of land suitable for coffee culture. A few minutes later we met them and had luncheon together on the dry stones of an old river course. In answer to Mr. Dobree’s inquiries I told him what I had seen of the country, of the large extent either actually under cultivation by the Dusun or lying fallow as jungle, and that virgin soil in large tracts would only be obtainable by felling the primæval forests on the enormous spurs of Kina Balu itself. We parted just as a heavy shower came on, and pursued our way to Ghinambaur, which place we reached about four o’clock, drenched to the skin and covered with mud to our waists, the roads being in a frightful state owing to the rain. We sought our old quarters, and soon made ourselves comfortable for the night. We heard that a court-house was being built here by Mr. Pretyman, but did not see it, and inquiries as to what the “white man” was going to do were numerous, as indeed they had been all along our route.
After resting, I could not resist making the accompanying sketch of the great mountain as it loomed up through the cloud strata just before sunset. We were four days’ journey from its base, and yet it seemed so very nigh to us in the last hours of sunlight as to appear only a mile or two distant through the sun-lit air of evening.
August 23rd.—We started early this morning from Ghinambaur, having a walk of fifteen miles before us over wretched roads ere we arrived at Mr. Pretyman’s residence, “Port Alfred,” on the Tampassuk. My buffalo was nearly knocked up, and so I left her in charge of the men, and I and Smith, trusting to our knowledge of the way, pushed on ahead. We had a hard day’s work a greater part of the way, floundering about in the mud of buffalo tracks, or crossing streams and creeks up to our necks, with just such a suspicion of lurking alligators being in them as made the thing exciting. I stayed at one place to collect palm-seeds, and the roots of a dwarf zingiberaceous plant, bearing pretty little white and lilac flowers. Here and there in the jungle we also saw a large amorphophallus, bearing erect spikes of red berries, and a pale-leaved variety of banana had its leaves beautifully blotched with reddish purple. In one place we had to cross a grassy plain, the mud and water being up to our waist-belts in places, and the tall coarse grasses arched over our heads so that for a mile or more one has to flounder up this grassy sewer, the effluvia from the festering mud and the heat being alike almost unbearable. We at last reached the low sandstone hills and padi fields near the Badjow village, and were glad to know that we were within a mile or two of our destination. Then came another case of floundering through a wet rice field in a drenching shower, up to the knees in unctuous black mud, remarkably warm, too, it felt to the legs and feet. After all our struggles, however, we reached the Residency about four o’clock, dirty, wet, and tired. Here we found M. Peltzer in charge, although looking very pale and ill. We found out that he was suffering from low fever and dysentery, although fortunately not in anything like its worst phases. A bath and clean dry clothes was the first thing, after which we were glad to sit and rest ourselves ere dinner time. We discovered that our friend, M. Peltzer, had formerly studied in the Horto-Agricultural College, founded by the late M. Van Houtte, at Ghent, and that he had come here to make experiments in the culture of tapioca, tobacco, and other kinds of tropical produce. He related to us an account of a journey made into the interior as far as Sineroup, in the course of which he had lost three buffaloes in the streams. Altogether we passed a very pleasant evening, glad to be so near the termination of a long, and at this time of the year, a very critical journey. The accommodation here was luxurious to what we had been accustomed to, and in spite of mosquitoes we slept the sleep of the thoroughly weary.
August 24th.—We arose soon after 5 a.m., and calling our followers, bade them prepare our boat for the homeward voyage. We ourselves looked after the welfare of our plants, and packed up our roots and seeds carefully. A party of men were sent to the sandstone hills to procure roots of the white gardenia before alluded to. At 7.50 we obtained a beautiful view of the mountain, the top crags, ridges, and water-falls being very distinct in the clear morning sunlight. I could not resist sitting down on the verandah and sketching the scene. Although my sketch was true as regards outline, nothing but colour could represent anything of the beauty of this scene—it is a subject worthy of Walton’s skill and labour. The tints of light are ever changing in the morning’s sun, and the cloud strata lie like downy pillows on the bosom of a giant. No wonder the simple Dusun, gazing on this mountain in all the radiance of its early morning glory, has idealised it as the heaven of his race!
A small herd of water-buffaloes have come down to the opposite side of the river to drink, and I was surprised to see that most of them had short stumpy tails. On inquiry I am told that the Badjows cut the tails of their riding buffaloes, otherwise they draggle in the mud and dirty water so common here, and then besprinkle the clothing of their masters. The poor beasts must feel their loss sadly in a hot country where mosquitoes and other blood-sucking flies are abundant, but as we cut our sheep’s tails short without so good a reason, we must not be the first in this case to throw a stone.
We gave all our men a rest this afternoon, which they sadly needed, for several of them were nearly exhausted. About four o’clock we were surprised at the return of Mr. Dobree and Mr. Pretyman, who had proceeded no further than the hill just above Sineroup. The Chinese cook of course received orders to augment his food supply, and we spent a very agreeable evening. Mr. Dobree showed us the skin of a young rhinoceros which he had shot in the mud pool near the Sagaliad river, about twenty miles from Sandakan. The lower horn was three inches in length, the upper one only just growing. Mr. Pretyman had also a small but very interesting collection of large coleoptera caught in the immediate neighbourhood.