Leaving the ridge, we descended a stream called Patra, where the guide said he wished us to remain while he went ahead to look for the path; so that, very unwillingly, I brought up at twelve, and our guide started to explore. One of the traces we found in the course of our walk was quite fresh, a human footstep in the mud, not a couple of hours old, and many broken branches. This caused as great excitement as ever Robinson Crusoe could have felt when he discovered the one on the sand; and the whole party collected to examine it. One man ventured to observe, “Perhaps there are enemies in the neighbourhood.” At this I laughed, and suggested it might be a wax-hunter, who, having caught sight of us, has started off to give notice of the approach of our formidable party: the twenty muskets must make it look formidable to him.
Our path to-day was rather difficult, as we had to ascend many steep hills, and sometimes to move along their faces, which is tiresome walking: it is only on the ridges that our advance is pleasant. We had a view of the Molu range through the trees, and also saw many other mountain ranges, but no sign of those extensive plains that we were promised; perhaps, however, we have not penetrated far enough into the country. No portion of Molu appears to drain into the Limbang, except through the Madalam, the waters of its southern and western faces being carried off by the Tutu and the Millanau into the Baram. I have been trying to find some flowers for Mr. Low, but we have as yet seen none, except of the most trifling description. The waters of the Patra are very muddy, there evidently having been a landslip in its upper course, in fact I observed one to-day that left the surface of a whole hill quite bare. Our Muruts have just killed a large rock snake; they are now cleaning it preparatory to its forming a portion of their dinner.
They surprised their snake basking in the sun and cut off its head: but some time before we were ascending a waterfall, and while looking at some flowers, a friend accidentally touched a gray rock-snake that lay lazily extended across our path; I saw him spring aside, and had but a moment to get out of the way, as the reptile dashed past. On our return, while choosing a good pool to bathe, we observed the snake, which was about twelve feet long, vainly endeavouring to escape up a rock, and finding it could not, it made a dash at us. We thought at the time that it meant to attack us, but probably it was only an endeavour to effect an escape. We drove it back with boughs to the deep pool before us, and then hurled large stones at it till it seemed to be dead; but on descending to the water to get out the body to examine, it had disappeared, diving into some hole or crevice in the rock. The Malays have a great dread of most kind of snakes, but this they especially dislike.
The cobra is, however, the most disagreeable one, particularly when met with in the water; one tried to swim across the river just below our boat; as soon as he saw us, he directed his course our way, not, I believe, to attack us, but simply as something to rest on; but my men in great alarm gave way, and escaped the beast. I have heard men say, that the cobra will not be frightened back by beating the water with the paddles, but must be killed, or it will enter the boat; if it succeed in doing so every Malay would instantly spring into the water and leave their canoe to drift away.
4 p.m.—Our guide has just returned, and brought with him the man whose traces have kept us on the qui vive. Our guide says that after walking about half an hour, he was hailed, and after a distant parley, the man approached, and to their mutual astonishment they found that they were countrymen, and that it was, in fact, his brother-in-law, in order to visit whose sister he had joined our party, the gay gentleman having left his young wife to go and seek his fortune and another wife in the neighbourhood of Brunei. Such meetings sometimes take place in romance, but seldom in real life. The stranger is one of a large party who are now pig-hunting in the neighbourhood, so that my chief fear—that we should not find our way—has left me. We may get a deer, as these hunters have just secured a pig. The new comer says he thought we were a party of head-hunters, therefore, did not make himself known to us. He followed us for some time, and felt a great inclination to send a poisoned arrow amongst us; but that we were too strong. Very fortunate for him he did not do so, or it might have fared ill with him.
11th.—Our guide left us again last night to join the wax-seekers, and we are now waiting his return. I will enter the following story while fresh in my memory. The Pañgeran Mumein, the Shabandar’s eldest son, took a Murut girl as a concubine; she, however, was to stay with her father up country. He paid, as a bri-an or marriage portion, a pikul of bedil (133 pounds of brass guns). When she had had her first child, he, as usual, got tired of her, and told her father he did not want her any more, unless she liked to follow him to Brunei. This was objected to. A few days after, he said he should fine the father for not allowing him to take the girl to Brunei, where he would have sold her as a slave. He made the father pay him back the pikul of guns, as well as two more pikuls, and then said, “Your daughter may marry whom she pleases.”
After some time, she married one of her own countrymen. Pangeran Mumein hearing of this, in a most unaccountable fit of jealousy, determined to kill them all, and gave orders to Orang Kaya Upit to seize them. The Orang Kaya hid himself, so the Pangeran was obliged to employ the Bisayas, who caught the husband and brought him to the noble. He had him tied up to the Orang Kaya’s landing-place, and there cut him to pieces with his own hand, taking his head and giving it as a present to the Gadong Muruts. The father and girl escaped. The Pangeran remains unpunished, probably unblamed. Of course, there are two sides to the story: he declares he had not separated from the girl.
The following is an instance of the punishment of an offender:—Salam, of Bukit Manis, together with his brother and his son, was accused of stealing buffaloes, and doubtless had done so, but acting generally as an agent of Mumein’s in his rascalities. The Sultan, wearied of the constant complaints against Salam, gave orders that he should be put to death: his house was immediately surrounded and fired into, and his brother and son killed. He then came out into his garden, begging that he might be taken to Brunei to be executed; but after they had induced him to throw away his sword, and fasten his own hands with his handkerchief, so that he could not immediately seize his weapon, they rushed in and cut him down. Difference of rank, difference of treatment.
There is an old Pablat man with us named Bujang: he says that the people of his kampong, or parish, as well as those of Burong Piñg-e, descend from Muruts, and that they turned Mahomedans shortly after they captured the daughter of the Sultan of Johore. This is the tradition or history: they were, as usual, cruising down the Gulf of Siam, looking out for prey, when they observed a prahu, gaily dressed out with banners, pulling along the coast. They gave chase, and soon came up with her, and found the daughter of the Sultan of Johore, surrounded by a bevy of pretty attendants; they seized them and carried them off to Brunei, and presented the lady to their chief, who married her.
When the father heard of it, he sent a great deputation of nobles to entreat the Murut to turn Mahomedan, and marry his daughter according to the custom of that religion. He made no difficulty, but, on the contrary, invited the nobles to remain and take wives in the country. Many did, and it soon became a great rendezvous for the Malays; in fact, the other twenty kampongs are descended from odds and ends of strangers, together with their wives, taken among the aborigines. The rajahs all say they are of Johore descent.