The farmhouse we occupied was one of many scattered over a narrow plain, perhaps four or five hundred yards in breadth, which skirted the banks of the river for several miles. It was evident that these Ida’an kept this land under continued cultivation, and that each portion was strictly private property. We found every house had about four acres of ground belonging to its owner, which were divided from one another by slight embankments. The soil appeared of admirable quality—in fact, a rich black mould. Heaps of panicles were lying near the houses, and the amount seemed to show that they must have had a very good crop last year.

Having induced three Buñgol Ida’an to start with buffaloes to fetch the baggage that was left at Rajah Ali’s house, we moved on a little before ten for Ginambur, intending to await their arrival there. Our path lay along the left bank, over low ground covered with long grass and brushwood, which prevented our obtaining other than glimpses of the mountain, but at a rapid we had a good view. The Baju guides gave these Ida’an the character of great thieves, and requested us to have everything carefully put away at night, affirming that these inhabitants of the plain were of a different character from those on the hills. It may be so, but we have never found the aborigines inclined to pilfer; on the contrary, they are remarkably honest; and should these prove to be of a different disposition, it will be an unique instance. Here as at Buñgol we could not purchase fowls except at absurd rates, which we declined. It is curious that these people show no hospitality—never offering us a single thing; but, instead, trying to overreach us in every transaction.

The house in which we lodged was the best I have ever seen among the aborigines: it was boarded with finely-worked planks; the doors were strong and excellently made, with a small opening for the dogs to go in and out; everything looked clean—quite an unusual peculiarity. The flooring of beaten-out bamboos was very neat, and free from all dirt, which I have never before noticed in a Dayak house, where the dogs generally render everything filthy. As this was the cleanest, so I think my friend the Bisayan chief’s house on the Limbang was the dirtiest—to describe its abominations would turn the reader’s stomach.

These Ida’an are very good specimens of the interior people—clear-skinned, free from disease, with pleasant, good-humoured countenances. None of the women are good-looking; still, they would not be called ugly. We noticed two peculiarities: that all the girls and young women wore a piece of black cloth to conceal their bosoms, which was held in its place by strips of coloured rattans; their petticoats were larger than usual, a practice that might have been followed with advantage by their elders. The second was that the young girls had the front of the head shaved, after the manner of the Chinese.

I have not noticed that any of the men are tattooed, but during our walk to-day we met many large parties of Ida’an loaded with tobacco, who were on their way to Tampasuk to trade, among whom there were some ornamented in this fashion:—A tattooed band two inches broad, stretched in an arc from each shoulder, meeting on the stomach, then turning off to the hips; others had likewise a band extending from the shoulders to the hands. They were all small, slight men, and armed with spears and swords.

As we were the first Europeans who had ever penetrated so far into the country, we excited great curiosity, particularly among the female portion of the tribe: every action was watched and commented upon, though I am bound to state that my little China boy, Ahtan, with his long tail, excited equal surprise; and when the black Madras cook commenced operations, we were totally abandoned, and a most attentive crowd collected round him, watching his every motion. As he proceeded to prepare the curry and the stew, the pressure became too great for his patience, so that he ran out declaring he could not cook the dinner. The crowd then drew back a little, but his actions did not escape the most attentive inspection. We were told that there was another extensive village of their people on the slope of the hills, embowered in groves of fruit-trees. It is a great advantage to live on the banks of a running stream, as all the population can keep themselves clean by frequent bathing. Another great preventive to disease is their having sufficient food: they appear well off, with plenty of buffaloes and cattle—a contrast, indeed, to their miserable brethren on the Limbang.

We soon began to find the effect of starting without proper shoes: yesterday my boots had blistered one heel so much that I determined to walk barefooted. Mr. Low’s feet became likewise so painful that he made up his mind to follow my example.

Our baggage did not arrive till the morning; we were then detained to procure men to carry it. At last Suñgat, the chief, agreed to follow us with six of the villagers. We started about eleven. Our course lay along the banks of the river, cutting off the points, and occasionally in the bed of the old stream. It having rained on the night previous, the river was somewhat swollen, which prevented either ourselves or our men fording it without Baju assistance; this rendered our progress slow. Mr. Low having never before walked without shoes, suffered much in passing over the pebbles, which were heated by the bright midday sun, and I also, though more used to it, felt it very much occasionally: in four hours we did not make more than three miles.

Having passed a very deep ford at 2.45 P.M., we agreed to stop for the night, and pitched our tents on the banks of the river on some dry sand, to have the benefit of the cool water that flowed by. We might have gone to the Ida’an houses, but preferred the independence of our own tents, both as more cool and less crowded; besides, we were there free from the suspicion of insects. The fords we passed during the day were composed of black sand, with small blocks of granite and serpentine mixed with sandstone.

The name of this place was Batong: from it Kina Balu bore S.E., and Saduk Saduk 15° east of south; the latter appears from this view to be a peaked mountain between 5,000 and 6,000 feet high. Kina Balu of course absorbed our attention: at night, as the sun shone brightly on its peaks, it wore a very smiling appearance. The summit seemed free from all vegetation, and streams of water were dashing over the precipices.