“And yet how still all seems, does it not? Nothing, absolutely nothing but the noise of the fleeting waters; not the sound of a bird or animal breaking this dead silence. Life seems almost extinct here.”
“Shut up!” was Johannes’ gay remark. “Morbid imagination, my boy, nothing else. Our poet is absolutely seeing solitude where none is to be found. The thunder of the cataract deafens all or you would soon hear the harsh cries of the hordes of gray-green [[261]]paroquets inhabiting the tops of yonder trees. You might hear the piercing cries of that herd of deer now grazing on the tops of the cliffs; you would hear those small bakais or monkeys flying about with their long tails through the branches of the trees, fern leaves and creepers which overhang the abyss, whistling their lively ‘kirah, kirah.’ By heavens, no! life is far from extinct here. On the contrary it shows itself in its most powerful aspects everywhere around you, even in the waters, where you may find the finest salmon disporting themselves. Presently, when we shall have mastered this wild stream and travelled upwards, all this life will disappear as if by magic. Then you will find all blank and quiet about you just as you have pictured it to yourself. Do not, however, blame nature for the change, but only men.”
Kiham Hoeras and its Passage.
While our deserters were thus philosophizing the Dayaks had taken steps to accomplish the difficult and dangerous ascent of the kiham. Women and children stepped on shore and began to climb the cliffs which formed as it were a flight of steps leading to the higher territory whence the Kapoeas descended. The four deserters, armed with their unerring rifles, and five Dayaks with their lances and mandauws, served as a convoy to the fair sex, all the while keeping an eye upon what was going on on the river.
The rattan ropes cut at soengei Dahasan and soengei Basarang and the chains found in soengei Naning were now produced and tied together. This long cable was drawn up by eight men, who while performing their task had successively to spring from cliff to cliff, to wade half through the water and swim across some [[262]]smaller branches of the river. After two hours of hard work the upper end of the cable was attached to a strong tree standing on the bank above the stream while the other end was thrown across the river to the canoes. Two Dayaks now posted themselves at the tree to guard the cable while six leaped into the river and allowed themselves to be carried away by the strong tide, grasping the cable as they sped along with astonishing rapidity. They repeatedly disappeared beneath the foam of the whirlpools, and the hearts of the Europeans beat faster as they witnessed each submersion, but they soon saw the long woolly hair of the swimmers reappear on the surface as they rose up gleefully and swam rapidly onwards.
The object of this manœuvring was to ascertain whether the cable had became entangled amongst the trunks of the trees or rocks, thereby imperilling the drawing up of the canoes. Although the cable was fully six hundred yards long the expert swimmers reached its lower end in a few seconds, when they wiped their faces as if nothing had happened. Five of the men now took their places in each of the rangkans, one of them steering while the four others took hold of the cable to draw the boat up against the terrific tide. The dangerous journey was undertaken by one rangkan at a time in order to prevent accidents arising from the breaking of the cable or upsetting.
Thanks to the skill of the Dayaks and Poenans the rangkans completed the ascent without any misadventure. The cataract now formed a formidable barrier between the Dutch and themselves and further pursuit was almost impossible.
The cable being wanted for other purposes had to be drawn up [[263]]again, an operation which took two hours to accomplish. The swimmers had to exhibit their skill again in diving to unfasten it whenever it became caught among the rocks.
The women, owing to the difficult path they had to follow in the ascent of the cliffs, had not proceeded very far, although to these children of nature a walk like this was nothing beyond an ordinary promenade. They reached the top in about half an hour, where they sat gossiping around a tree to which the cable was attached. The younger ones passed their time in merriment while the elders lit several small fires to cook the meals for the company. In the midst of all this female clatter La Cueille’s voice was suddenly heard crying out: