As I spent very little of my time in looking for plants, I reached it some time before my fellow-traveller, and was surprised to find the great ease with which we could converse, although more than a quarter of a mile apart. It really required no effort, and the air appeared so transparent as to render it difficult to judge of distances. From Low’s Gully to the north-western peak does not exceed two miles; and we were struck by a remarkable feature in the granite rocks, which run in a broken line along the northern face of the summit. It appeared as if they were lying in strata, which partly accounts for the angular granite we observed in the streams below.
When I first reached the terrace the sun was shining brightly on the landscape below, and my first impulse was to turn to look for that lofty mountain of which I had obtained a glimpse during my former ascent, but the southern peak shut in that view, and I had to content myself with the still extensive prospect. Looking over the valley of Pinokok, I could distinctly trace the coast line down even to Labuan, which, though somewhat hazy, was yet visible, near the great mountains of Brayong and Si Guntang. The Bay of Kimanis was to be seen in all its distinctness, and, with Nosong Point, Pulo Tiga, and Papar Headland, looked at this distance almost land-locked. Gaya island was there visible, but the bay was shut in by its surrounding hills. Mengkabong and Sulaman waters showed clear, and I could occasionally observe some reaches of the Tawaran glistening among the fruit groves of the plain. The horizon was perhaps distant a hundred miles, showing a broad expanse of ocean. We stood looking at this prospect with great pleasure; but at last, being joined by the man who carried the barometer, I left Mr. Low to prepare the instrument, and started for the north-western peak, from which I hoped to have the most extensive view to be seen in all Borneo, and to have the satisfaction of examining that heap of stones which looked like a cairn from below.
It was easy to get to its base. On the northern side of it were heaps of broken but angular granite, which appeared to have fallen from its sides, leaving a perpendicular face, a little overhanging at the summit. The slabs of granite, which peel off its western and southern sides, roll on a sharp slope, and must glide down to fall over the great precipice overlooking the valley of Pinokok. The heaps I observed to the south move more slowly onward towards the cliff, as the incline is less.
I tried to reach the summit of this peak by a narrow edge of rock abutting from its southern front; but after following it with my face towards it, and moving sideways with my arms stretched out on either side, till it narrowed to about eight inches, I thought it prudent to return; but at a spot where I had secure footing, I pitched a stone on the summit, which was about forty feet above the highest point I reached.
I had scarcely regained the base, when I saw a thick white cloud suddenly sweep up from the north, and heavy rain and gusts of wind soon wetted us through and chilled us to the bone. I hurried along the huge natural wall which skirts the northern edge of the summit, and is the termination of the great terrace, to join Mr. Low, and then heard that last night’s rain had wet the leather of Adie’s barometer, and it would not act. We tried the boiling-water thermometers, but in this storm of wind, rain, and hail, though we managed to light the spirit-lamp, we could not read the number of degrees, the apparatus appearing defective. We waited for nearly two hours, hoping it would blow over; but it only increased in violence, and enveloped in this rain-cloud, we could not see fifty yards.
Unwillingly we now attended to the remonstrances of our shivering followers, and commenced descending. The wind veered round suddenly to the east, and drove the sleet and hail into our faces, while torrents formed in every direction, and rushed over the smooth surface of the granite. To descend was a work of danger, as the streams of water crossed our path in every direction; and had we lost our footing while passing them, we should have been sent gliding down to the precipices. It was bitterly cold, the thermometer at two P.M. falling to 43°. As we approached the steeper incline, the velocity of the running water increased, and in one place, even Kamá appeared at fault, as the granite was as slippery as glass, being reduced to a fine polish, as it formed the course down which the rains always ran; but at last finding a crevice, into which we could insert the sides of our feet, we managed to pass the momentarily swelling torrent. One of our Malays was seized with fever and ague at this most difficult part of the descent; but he behaved manfully, and managed, by his own exertions, to get down the granite slopes. My Chinese boy, Ahtan, fell, and rolled over several times, but escaped with a slight wound, but heavy bruises. One Malay’s feet slipped from under him, and he fell heavily on his back, but his head escaped, as he was carrying on his shoulders a large basket full of flowers.
During both ascents, I observed the men carefully examining the crevices of the granite in search of little pieces of very transparent quartz, which were to be found there. I picked up, during the former trip, a little of them, that were greatly prized by the ladies of the capital, who had them inserted into rings.
After three hours’ hard work, we reached the cave, in company with our invalids. The poor fever-stricken Malay looked in a woful plight, but we gave him immediately ten grains of quinine in a glass of whiskey, and by evening the fit was over. We found many of our men were injured by falls, but not seriously. Though Mr. Low made a fine collection of herbaceous and other plants, yet we were greatly disappointed with the result of our ascent, as the injury to the barometer was caused by our own carelessness.
We determined, however, to reascend to the summit next morning; but on trying the boiling-water thermometers, they did not act properly, and varied five degrees: the barometer also continued useless. We therefore gave up our intention, particularly when we found that all the Ida’an guides were making up their packets, declaring nothing should induce them to go through such exposure as they suffered yesterday, and as we found many of our men were ailing, we unwillingly, therefore, commenced our descent, collecting plants by the way, and spent the night at the hut I had erected during my first expedition.
Next day we reached the village of Kiau, and had a very different kind of settling day from the last. Lemoung was civil and obliging, and all appeared sorry at our leaving them, and begged us to return again as soon as possible, promising to take us to the lake, or wherever we might choose to go.