I made many inquiries as to the amount of population which dwells in the districts bordering on this deep bay. I obtained from Sherif Hasan, the son of Sherif Usman, who formerly ruled these districts with a strong hand, a list of the number of Ida’an families who paid tribute to his father. I then inquired of the chief Datu Budrudin, of Sherifs Musahor, Abdullah, and Houssein, and of a number of traders, and their accounts do not greatly vary.

Sherif Usman received tribute from the following districts:—

Udat200families of Ida’an.
Milau200„  „
Lotong150„  „
Anduan50„  „
Metunggong300„  „
Bira’an100„  „
Tigaman250„  „
Taminusan50„  „
Bintasan——
Bingkungan60„  „
Panchur500„  „
„  „
Buñgan300„  „
Tandek1,500„  „
3,660families.
Add a third1,220families not paying revenue.
Total4,880families.

At six to a family, this would give nearly 30,000 people.

Comparing this statement with those given by the assembled chiefs, I find they slightly differ. They reckoned the population at 36,000 people; and I account for it, first, by Sherif Hasan not having given the population of Bintasan; and, secondly, by his only mentioning the number of families on the Buñgun who paid tribute to his father, there being above a thousand families who did not.

They all represented the district of Bengkoka, not included in the above list, as the most important and populous of all; it is on the eastern coast of the bay, and the river, though barred at the entrance, is reputed deep inside. Its population is stated at 16,000 Ida’an. The Malays and Sulus residing in all these districts are represented as not very numerous; in fact, as under 5,000, of whom 1,500 are at Panchur, 1,500 at Bengkoka, and the rest scattered at the various other villages. If the above figures represent the numbers, there are about 52,000 Ida’an on the banks of the rivers flowing into the bay, and about 5,000 strangers. They all, however, explained that, when they enumerated the Ida’an, they only spoke of those villages which were under the influence of the people of the coast, and that there were many tribes among the mountains with whom they had little intercourse.

I once met a party of these Ida’an; they were a dark, sharp-featured race, intelligent-looking, and appeared in features very much like the Land Dayaks of Sarawak. They were dressed in their war costume, consisting of heavy, padded jackets, but wore the chawat or cloth round their loins. They were slight and short men.

The productions of these districts consist of rattans, wax, camphor, tortoise-shell, tripang or sea-slug, and kaya laka, a sweet-scented wood. Large quantities of rice and tobacco are grown, and, if encouraged, these cultivations would greatly increase. The only minerals as yet discovered are coal in the Bengkoka River, and tin in some stream at the foot of the Kina Balu range. I saw specimens of the latter, but no one has ventured to work it yet. The insecurity would prevent the Chinese succeeding.

Starting from the head of Maludu Bay, and skirting the eastern shore, it is found to be shoal off Mobang Point, and on the next inlet, Teluk Mobañg, Sherif Usman endeavoured to establish a village; but while his people were clearing the forest, they were seized with severe vomitings, many dying; all arising, the Malays, confidently believe, from the machinations of the evil spirits who had been disturbed in their homes. Leaving the points of Taburi and Si Perak, we pass through the straits formed by the island of Banguey and the mainland. That Island is inhabited in the interior by Ida’an, but on the shore many Bajus assemble, collecting tortoise-shell and sea-slug, and they have built many houses near the peak. It was they who pillaged and burnt the Minerva, wrecked off Balambañgan, in November, 1848. I have mentioned the Mengkabong people having treacherously plundered a village on Banguey; the inhabitants consisted of their own race, mixed with a few Sulus and others. The islets to the south-west of Banguey are named Padudañgan (by the Sulus it is called Palarukan), and Patarunan. Indarawan is the name of a small river at the south of Banguey, where, it is said, sufficient good water may be procured to supply vessels. Passing between Mali Wali and a rock off the coast, the soundings are very variable, and the sea appears filled with sandbanks and shoals; in fact, for a frigate, the sea is not sufficiently clear of reefs till we arrive opposite Sandakan Bay.

Commencing from the north-eastern point of Borneo, we first come to a little bay called Batul Ayak, the only inhabitants of which are Bajus, who entirely reside in their boats. Then there is a small river called Kina (China) Bañgun: there are but few people residing there, wanderers with no settled dwellings. After that there is Kang Karasan, where there are probably not more than a couple of hundred Mahommedans, but the Dusuns in the interior are numerous: my informants knew of villages containing above three hundred families. The river Paitan is large and deep, and there are above a thousand Islams living here, and the Ida’an in the interior are represented to be as numerous as the leaves on the trees, and the slopes of the hills are covered with great forests of camphor-trees. I may observe that boxes made of camphor-wood prevent any insects meddling with woollen cloths, and are therefore very useful. Camphor has so powerful an aromatic smell, that it will drive every insect from its neighbourhood. Passing the stream of Babahar, which is small, and without inhabitants, we arrive at Sugut, to the north of the commencement of Labuk Bay; but it has also a small entrance to the south of it. The Islam population is represented as numerous, while seven thousand families of Ida’an reside in the interior; in consequence of their great superiority of numbers, their chiefs have great influence in those districts. A few elephants are caught here, but the principal exports are rattans, wax, and camphor. The north-east coast of Borneo, as far as the entrance of the Sugut River, is rather flat, only a few low hills occasionally diversifying the scene; but no sooner do you round the point, and enter Labuk Bay, than it presents a different aspect: the low hills gradually swell into mountains, one range of which is remarkably peaked—as jagged, from one view, as the edge of a saw. Kina Balu is visible along this coast, and from the eastern side the ascent appears feasible. A vessel steering along the shore finds it difficult, from the numerous shoals, while pretty islets are scattered about in every direction. If the Benggaya be approached in a direct line, the water gradually decreases from three to one and a half fathoms; but, keeping close into the front, it deepens to five, seven, and no bottom with a ten-fathom line. The country, as viewed from the mouth of this river, presents only mangrove jungle, with an occasional glimpse at the distant mountains: its entrance is very shallow, not deep enough at low tide to float a ship’s cutter. To reach the village of Benggaya, it is necessary to keep to the left-hand branch, avoiding the broad stream which stretches away to the right; but after ten miles the stream divides, and it is necessary to pass by the left-hand branch, and continue for about twenty miles farther up a most extraordinarily winding river before the houses are reached. This out-of-the-way situation is chosen to avoid the attacks of pirates. The banks of this river present a continued succession of mangrove and nipa swamp for many miles, only occasionally varied by dry land and fine forest trees. The stream winds in a most extraordinary manner, and at one place the reaches had met, and nothing but a fallen tree prevented a saving of two miles of distance. The inhabitants consist of a few Islams, called men of Buluñgan, doubtless fugitives from the Malay State of that name a couple of hundred miles farther south. There is an overland communication between Sugut and Benggaya, prepared by the latter in case of being suddenly surprised, as they have no interior to fly to, and consequently no Ida’an population.