As no coin is current above kotta Baroe, and nothing can be procured in the interior of Borneo except by barter, Johannes exchanged all the money of the travellers for chintz, linen goods and gold dust. This precious metal is found in small quantities in the alluvial sand of the river at other places, but at kotta Baroe it is found in quantities which render the search remunerative, so that gold dust appears here as a regular article of commerce. Johannes, as a functionary of the Dutch Government, was liberally treated and received for fifty-five guilders a thaël of gold of which the value at Bandjermasin is from sixty to seventy guilders.
After a stay of two hours the canoe, impelled by six-and-twenty pairs of oars, shot onward with lightning speed and soon disappeared on its course up the river.
It was now arranged that during the night twenty oarsmen should be continually kept at work while the remaining six should rest for two hours and thus relieve six others who would in their turn enjoy two hours repose. The canoe, with its resources thus husbanded, went on quietly and expeditiously.
The conversation of the Europeans, which never flagged however vigorously they were rowing, now turned upon the fauna of the country they were traversing.
“With the exception of some crocodiles and a few troops of [[152]]monkeys climbing the trees like wild boys, we have as yet seen very little of animal life on this island,” Schlickeisen remarked. “And yet animals must be strongly represented in a country like this.”
“By no means,” Johannes answered. “In fact, Borneo is much worse supplied in this respect than any of the larger islands of the Indian Archipelago. We have no rhinoceroses, elephants or tigers, not even a native horse. The island abounds in snakes, the cause of which may be found in its marshy soil. This over-population of snakes is in its turn the cause of the paucity of birds observable in the lower regions, as these reptiles creep up the trees to get at the nests and either suck the eggs or devour the broods.”
“It seems curious that this central island of the Indian Archipelago only is totally deprived of its share of animals.”
“Totally deprived is not the right expression,” Johannes interrupted. “We have not seen very much as yet of the great central island, as Wienersdorf calls it. We shall find that the monkeys are quite as numerous as they are anywhere. We are now in the paradise of the orang-outang, the homo silvarum, which Darwin must certainly have had in view when, advancing his theory of the descent of our forefathers, he paid the monkeys the poor compliment of having us for their progeny. Herds of deer rove about the forests and higher plateau, in quantities and varieties that would give you quite a different opinion and confute your statement that there is a total dearth of the animal kingdom.”
“A saddle of venison would not be unwelcome,” La Cueille suggested, [[153]]smacking his lips; “only one single morsel out of all this abundance is, I am sure, not asking too much.”
“Have patience, my friend! All in good time. But to return to our subject. Do you not consider this a happy country where on land man has only to fear his fellow man, and in the water that other insatiable monster, the crocodile?”