It has been thought that the tribes living around Kina Balu speak different languages, but we found, on the contrary, that the Ida’an, Dusun, and even the Bisaya, can converse freely with each other. We had with us, during our different expeditions, Bisayas from the river Kalias, opposite Labuan, an interpreter who had learnt the language from the people in the interior of Membakut, Malays who had learnt it at Kimanis, Dusuns from Tamparuli, on the Tawaran, and Ida’an from the plains of Tampasuk; and yet, after a few days, to become accustomed to the differences of dialect, all these men conversed freely with the Kiaus. If they are asked whether they speak the same languages, they will answer, “No,” and give as an example—“We say iso, when the Kiaus say eiso, for ‘no’;” but these are only localisms. I must add, that none of these people had ever visited the Kiaus until they accompanied us.
In making vocabularies here we found the villagers very careless of their pronunciation: for instance, the word “heavy” was at different times written down, magat, bagat, wagat, and ogat; for “rice,” wagas and ogas; for “to bathe,” padshu, padsiu, and madsiu, and indifferently pronounced in these various ways by the same people. Many years previously, when I was at Maludu Bay, I collected a few words of the Ida’an, and they were essentially the same as those of the aborigines of Tampasuk; and the Malays tell me that the Ida’an of the north-eastern coast speak so as to be understood by them, who have acquired their knowledge on the western coast. I may here observe that the same people are indifferently called Dusun and Ida’an. The term Dusun, the real meaning of which is villager, is applied to these northern inhabitants of Borneo by the Malays, while the Bajus generally call them Ida’an.
While we were making preparations for our short visit to Marei Parei, we noticed some agitation among the Kiaus, and found it arose from a report that a large party of Europeans had arrived at Bawang, on the Tawaran, on their way to the mountain, and it was added, heavy guns had been heard at sea. We could not, of course, offer any explanation, but thought there was very little likelihood of any one coming to join us, and suggested, what proved to be the truth, that the news of our own arrival at Bawang had been reaching them by a circuitous route. We treated the report with so much indifference as to satisfy their suspicious minds.
The next morning, the men who had agreed to carry our bedding refused to fulfil their contract unless paid double wages; so we started with our own servants, but were quickly followed by the Ida’an, who eagerly shouldered the heaviest burdens. They were only trying how far they could succeed in imposing on us. The Fop also took a load. That name was affixed to him, on our first visit, from his great attention to dress, and the favour shown him by all the young girls, more due to his evident good-nature than to his good looks; he was, however, an active, powerful man. When we were here in April, he had just married a fine girl, named Sugan, and used always, when the crowd surrounded us, to be seen standing behind her with his arms folded round her neck. He was better mannered than any of his neighbours, and never annoyed us by begging. He it was who told us he had been to the lake, and followed the route through Tuhan, Inserban and Barbar. His name is Kamá. I mention him, as he might prove useful as a guide to the lake, should any traveller be induced to try that journey.
We followed the same path we used on the former occasion—across the Pinokok valley, and up the buttress, till we reached Marei Parei, and encamped on a rocky, dry spot near the place where the Nepenthes Rajah were found in the greatest abundance.
Knowing that the cold would be severely felt by our followers, accustomed all their lives to the heat of the plains, we tried to induce them to take precautions, but without avail. We, however, took care of ourselves by cutting enough brushwood to raise our bedding a foot above the damp ground, to fill up the end of our tent and cover it over with bushes, grass, and reeds, to prevent the cold piercing through. Around us were thickets of magnolias, but without flowers, and among the other shrubs which grew near was one which we selected for our beds, as when bruised it emitted a myrtle-like fragrance.
The temperature was very pleasant in the afternoon, being 75° in the shade; but this was partly caused by the refraction from the rocky soil around. In the water the thermometer marked 66·5°, but at sunset it fell to 60° in our tent, and the men, too late, began to repent of their idleness.
The vegetation around is very stunted, though above the trees are large-sized: the former is due to the stony nature of the soil and the great amount of iron that renders all compass bearings untrustworthy. It is, I believe, decomposed serpentine, containing a large quantity of peroxide of iron. Above the vegetation the mountain presents nothing but rough precipices impossible to ascend. On their face we observed broad white patches and white lines running across, similar to those I observed on the summit during my former ascent. On the top of the north-west peak we noticed a heap of stones, which, through a good telescope, looked like a cairn, and we were full of conjectures as to the possibility of a traveller in ancient times having made the ascent. This apparent cairn was afterwards explained by similar heaps of granite piled up as if by man, but being simply the harder portions of the rock remaining when the rest had crumbled away.
At sunrise the thermometer marked 55°, and the air felt very chilly; so, after a cup of chocolate to warm our blood, we started to explore the slopes above us.
Dr. Hooker having kindly allowed me to make use of his descriptions of the wonderful pitcher-plants discovered during these expeditions, I shall avail myself of the permission, and introduce here his notes on the Bornean species of Nepenthes, as well as the botanical account of the ones found on the Marei Parei spur.