21st.—Many of the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages are coming in to see the stranger. The women are remarkably ill favoured—broad flat faces and extremely dirty, but with many head ornaments, and some of them are tattooed about the arms and legs. Many of the men and women wear round flat pieces of metal or of wood in the holes of their ears instead of earrings, while others have heavy pieces of lead, dragging the ear down to the shoulder, like the Kanowit tribe, I suppose to enlarge the holes to the proper proportions.
It is curious to notice the very old look that many of the boys and girls have, especially the latter: it requires a glance at the bosom to discover whether they are young or not. Their petticoats are of the shortest, sometimes not eight inches broad, and are scarcely decent. The Bengal civilian’s exclamation on seeing the Sarawak Dayaks, “It strikes me that these people are rather devoid of drapery,” would apply better to the Adang ladies.
We have purchased rice for twenty days at extremely moderate rates, bartering with beads. Our guide continues absent on a visit to his relations, which is the cause of our remaining so quiet. The atmosphere around us is filled with smoke from the burning plantations, rendering it quite unpleasant for mouth, nose and eyes: the clearings are very extensive in many places, and as yet not half burnt. Their cultivation is very slovenly—the regular Dayak custom of felling a large extent of jungle, then, when dry, burning all that can be easily burnt, thus leaving the trunks and large branches, and planting rice between them.
I have observed but few tobacco-plants; they smoke what appeared to me a kind of moss, but in reality tobacco badly cured. They are all anxious for goods, but they have nothing to sell; neither goats nor honey, and but few fowls or vegetables, nor do they appear to have wax, camphor or birds’-nests; rice is their only commodity, and that they have in abundance.
4 p.m.—One of the great curiosities of these countries is certainly the edible bird’s-nest caves, and we were promised the sight of an immense one. Luñgenong told us that once, when out hunting, he had followed a pig into a large crevice in the rock, which, however, opened out to an immense size in the interior; and that the sides were covered with a mass of the white nest; of course the old ones would have been of no value, but had they been destroyed, in a few months new ones would have been built, and have been worth a great deal to them. Luñgenong has just returned from a visit to his relations, but though he still persists in his story of the caves, he has changed a three days’ walk into a month’s journey in the forest: we must, he says, carry provisions for the whole distance. This is evidently an invention; perhaps he does not want us to visit his caves, so I have told him I won’t go. I should like to reach the mountain of Lawi, but I have only seven men who can walk.
22nd.—I have almost made up my mind not to try to penetrate farther into the country during this expedition. I think it would be much better to attempt reaching the great mountain of Lawi by ascending the Trusan river from its mouth. The whole country appears inhabited, so that my men would not suffer as they have done during our present expedition up the Limbang: they would have no unusual fatigues, nor any privations to undergo, and our chance would be greater.
It is very improbable indeed that at this season I can get much assistance from these villagers; it is their planting time, and they have a little of that feeling, which we found so prevalent during our Kina Balu trip, of not wishing to help us to go beyond their own village—a sort of jealousy that we may distribute our goods elsewhere. Were my men well I should laugh at such difficulties, and go without a guide; but four of my followers are really ill, eight more have very sore feet, so that in reality I have but five efficient men, which is too few to wander with unless joined to the people of the country. I have succeeded in all the objects with which I started except reaching Lawi, and I have gained such knowledge and experience how to organize the next expedition, that I feel tolerably assured of penetrating during the next excursion very much farther into the country.
The climate among these hills must be very healthy, the air is fresh and cool; even in the middle of the day it is not oppressive, except in certain places. A few days’ farther advance would give us a very superior climate. I regret that I have not sufficient instruments with me to carry out all my views: but even with the imperfect means I possess, I have added considerably to my knowledge of this portion of the interior.
We are making many inquiries respecting the country below us, and the result is that we think that by starting from Brunei with light boats and lighter baggage, we should probably reach these houses in good condition under twelve days; which would enable us to extend our travels immensely during two months. I am longing to push on to the range of mountains we see to the eastward, but after five days’ rest few of the men have recovered from their walk from the Madihit.
The men are drinking arrack around me, and it is interesting to observe the custom of refusing the proffered glass and pressing it on others, the contest continuing even to the danger of spilling the liquor. It is so practised among the Chinese at Sarawak that a cup of tea is often offered and refused by every one in company before the holder will drink it. I must have disconcerted many a thirsty man by accepting the cup before I knew the custom. This puts me in mind of an incident that took place in a rapid run I made between the Cove and Cork. At the door of a public-house were a dozen idle labourers: we stopped there for a glass of ale, and in the exuberance of our spirits ordered four quarts for the idlers: just as we were starting, one of them stepped up to me and said,—“Sir, we never drink but out of our own pints.”