5 p.m.—“Unstable as water,” &c., I might almost say of myself, as my determination of not extending our journey has been upset by the Orang Kaya Upit, who assures me that the people of the interior are expecting me, and Si Nuri has just joined us with a message from Si Puntará, the old hunter we met in the woods, hoping we will come and visit him and his people. So if nothing occur, we shall start to-morrow with such men as can walk, leaving the others to recover strength at this village. I much prefer this plan, as it will enable me to form a better estimate of the facilities of reaching the centre of the island by this route, and I may yet get a look at Lawi. I have constantly borne in mind the whisper I overheard, that only certain privileged individuals are allowed to get a sight of this famous hill.
I have seen many fashions of wearing brass wire, but the most inelegant is that of some of the girls of the neighbouring villages, who twist about a couple of fathoms in circles round their neck, rising from the shoulders to the chin, forming what appears a stiff collar with a very broad base; it is, however, no doubt more pliant than it appears.
23rd.—Commenced our tour among the villages by walking over to the Purté houses: it took us two hours in the broiling sun, although in a direct line not above two miles, and by path not three, but we had to descend about fifteen hundred feet and climb that again; the slopes of the hills very steep: besides we were in no hurry, not intending to pass this village. The leech bites prevent my wearing shoes, and the way being completely open, with no shade whatever, the trunks of trees laid along to form a path were very hot, making the soles of my feet painfully sore; my followers, lazy after a five days’ rest, lagged even in this short walk, but as soon as we reached the houses, a beautiful breeze refreshed us: but even a long bath would not cool my burning feet.
The village of Purté, or Sakalobang, one the name of the rivulet, the other of the buttress, is on a northern spur of the Adang range, which here bends considerably to the eastward. It consists of about forty-five families, and the houses are slightly larger than the last ones, and less confined: this village acknowledges Balang Palo as its head man, as Si Lopong was of the last, and they know the different villages by the names of the chief men, rather than by rivers or hills. After our bathe the villagers refreshed us with a sweet drink, unfermented, made from the roots of the tapioca. I notice here that deer’s horns are much used as pegs on which to hang their swords and fighting jackets. Most of the people are away planting rice, while the neighbouring villagers are burning the felled trees, and filling the air with their smoke. As we advance we obtain better views of the interior, and here the Trusan, under the name of Kalalan, is rather broad, and might perhaps float a canoe.
I shall not make much remark about the country, as I have taken the necessary bearings, and shall see it all so much better from the upper villages. The lofty eastern range is gradually appearing as two, with in one place high white cliffs near the summit; it is too smoky for very good bearings. Noticed a little boy wearing brass wire round the arm from the wrist to the elbow, after the fashion of Sarawak Dayak girls, and many of the absurd brass-wire collars even on young children.
Every principal man seems to consider it necessary to give Orang Kaya Upit, and the other illustrious visitors, a meal or a feast, and it is amusing to watch how the invitation is given and received. The host draws near the crowd, and says,—“Come,” the visitors pretend not to hear: he again repeats, “Come,” more impatiently. They look at anything rather than the speaker, and continue their conversation with more earnestness than ever; after innumerable “Comes,” they at last get up and proceed in solemn procession to the host’s room; and this is carried on throughout the day, the visitors becoming redder and redder in the face as evening approaches, the repeated draughts of arrack having their effect. They gave me a little honey; it does not look inviting, but it tastes tolerably well.
8 p.m.—The whole house is in uproar, from the news arriving of a man having been killed last night during a drunken bout in a neighbouring village: nobody knows who did it, so each of the men took an oath it was not he: they hang up a string of tiger-cat’s teeth, and the men pass under, denying the action; a man refusing to undergo this ordeal is considered guilty. The discussion among the assembled chiefs is very energetic, as each man is trying to suggest how the accident could have occurred; it being their custom when intending to spend the night drinking, to lodge all their arms with the women. The most sensible conjecture was that the spear shaken from its place by the boisterous movements of the drinkers, fell without being touched, and striking the man inside the thigh, cut the femoral artery: they could not stop the bleeding, and the man died almost immediately. At first suspicion fell upon the owner of the spear, but he evidently had not thrown it, yet they felt inclined to fine the man for having possessed so unlucky a weapon. The news of the accident threw a slight damp on the party, and though they kept it up till one, much to my discomfort, yet none of the carousers got intoxicated.
24th.—We advanced to-day four hours in a south-east by east direction to the village of Tabari. I thought yesterday I should get a clearer view at early dawn, but a dense fog hid everything from us; it did not lift till nine, and then only partially, but it showed that what appeared as the southern end of the long range is a separate mountain, but as we shall in all likelihood advance two or three days farther, it is useless to speculate on the probable course of the river. Our path to-day reminded me of the Sarawak Dayak ones, being principally composed of trunks of trees generally notched, disagreeable in descending.
As the morning was cool, our party kept well together, except the Orang Kaya Upit and his relations, who would have bad birds. They are evidently in alarm; what about is rather puzzling, as we are only going to the houses of our last night’s visitors, but they apprehend treachery, and are giving broad hints about returning; to this I will not listen, as they will state no reason for their fears. Tabari’s village, unlike the rest, is on the main river, which thus affords us pleasant baths; it contains twenty-three families. Opposite the houses is one of those bamboo and wooden suspension-bridges, thrown from one tree to another, common in many rivers, and very useful, though they are sometimes very rotten, and will only bear one at a time. (Houses 3,127 feet.) Although we stopped at Tabari’s house, the Orang Kaya Upit would not, but went on to the next village.
