The bark of this tree was white, and by piercing it with a knife, our hunters perceived that it was soft and milky. The wood, too, for some inches below the periphery was so spongy, that the blade of the knife penetrated into it almost as easily as into the stalk of a cabbage.
The wood near the bark was of a white colour. Inwards it became harder; and had they been able to reach the heart, they would have found it very hard, and of a dark chocolate colour. On exposure to the air, this heart-wood turns black as ebony; and is used for similar purposes by the native Dyaks and Malays, who manufacture from it bracelets and other bijouterie.
On asking their Dyak guide the name of this remarkable tree, he said it was called the tapang. This, however, gave no information regarding its species; but Alexis, shortly after, in passing under one, observed some flowers that had fallen from its top; and having examined one of these, pronounced the tree a species of ficus—a very common genus in the islands of the Indian Archipelago.
If our young hunters were filled with admiration at sight of this beautiful tree itself, they shortly after observed something that changed their admiration into wonder. On advancing towards one of the tapangs, they were struck with a singular serrated appearance that showed along the edge of its trunk—from the ground up to the base of its branching head. It looked as if a tall ladder was laid edgeways along the trunk of the tree—one side of it bidden under the bark! On drawing nearer, this appearance was explained. A ladder in reality it was; but one of rare construction; and which could not have been removed from the tree, without taking it entirely to pieces. On closer examination, this ladder proved to be a series of bamboo spikes—driven into the soft trunk in a slightly slanting direction, and about two feet apart, one above the other. The spikes themselves forming the rounds, were each about a foot in length; and held firmly in their places by a bamboo rail—to which their outer ends were attached by means of thin strips of rattan. This rail extended the whole way from the ground to the commencement of the branches.
It was evident that this extemporised ladder had been constructed for the purpose of climbing the tree, but with what object? Upon this head their Dyak guide was the very man to enlighten them: since it was he himself who had made the ladder. The construction of such ladders, and afterwards the climbing of them, were the most essential branches of his calling—which, as already stated, was that of a bee-hunter. His account of the matter was as follows. A large wasp-like bee, which is called lanyeh, builds its nests upon these tall tapangs. The nest consists of an accumulation of pale yellowish wax—which the bees attach to the under-side of the thick branches, so that these may shelter the hive from the rain. To reach these nests, the bamboo ladder is constructed, and the ascent is made—not for the purpose of obtaining the honey alone—but more on account of the wax, out of which the combs are formed. The lanyeh being as much wasp as bee, produces a very small quantity of honey; and that, too, of inferior quality; but the wax is a valuable article, and of this several dollars’ worth may be procured from a single hive.
It is dearly earned money—very dearly earned, indeed; but the poor Dyak bee-hunter follows the calling from motives not easily understood—since almost any other would afford him a living, with less labour and certainly with less pain. Pain, indeed! he never succeeds in plundering the store of the lanyeh, without being severely stung by the insects; and though their sting is quite as painful as that of the common wasp, experience seems to have rendered the Dyak almost indifferent to it. He ascends the flimsy ladder without fear—carrying a blazing torch in his hand, and a cane basket on his back. By means of the torch, he ejects the bees from their aerial domiciles; and, then having torn their combs from the branches, he deposits them in his basket—the incensed insects all the while buzzing around his ears, and inflicting numerous wounds over his face and throat, as well as upon his naked arms! Very often he returns to the ground with his head swollen to twice the size it was previous to his going up! Not a very pleasant profession is that of a Bornean bee-hunter!