8th.—Being excessively hungry, I determined to have the remaining fowl, a mere chicken, for breakfast. I thought we deserved it, having had nothing to eat for dinner, so it was killed before we started. An hour’s walk brought us to the end of the mountain ridge, and gave us a fine view of the country. There was Molu with its highest peak bearing west by south, proving that the western peak, under which we were last February, is not the loftiest.
It appeared to me that we had clearly passed the greatest difficulties as regards country; it was now more open, the hills drawing back farther from the banks of the river, which wound at our feet some three thousand feet below. I now knew from the bearings that we were north of our boats; they lay as nearly as possible between us and Molu. I therefore proposed to the men that we should abandon the main stream and push due west, straight for the Madihit; but they had no faith in compasses, and seeing a mountain range nearly as high as the one we were on between us and what I affirmed to be the Madihit, they said they preferred keeping to the banks of the Limbang, which now appeared to be less difficult.
We did not long continue admiring this extensive prospect; our thoughts referred to water and something to eat, so we commenced the descent, which was nearly as steep as yesterday’s ascent; but going down hill, though trying to the knees, does not take away the breath. We did not, however, reach a stream till nearly two, when we stopped for breakfast. Ahtan, smiling at the thought of a fowl, got the breakfast ready in a very short time. The men proposed that we should spend the night here, but I declined, insisting that we should reach the Limbang. It poured with rain, but it was necessary we should exert ourselves. I pushed on with Ahtan and two others.
When I was gone, one of the men lay down in the path and burst out crying, saying he should never see his mother again; a companion threw himself down too, but the rest of the party followed me. These two I rather pitied, as this was their second day without rice; but they and their two friends were the most improvident of the lot. One day they began to cook without orders; the rice was just wetted, but they were told to move on, and not cook till we all stopped. They therefore wrapped up their breakfast, and moved on. Presently I saw a packet, and picking it up, found that they had thrown away the rice, saying it was too much trouble to carry it; another party, on its being handed to them, quickly appropriated it. Another day they cooked three times, throwing away what was left. It was disgusting to see such waste of food; but they suffered for it. At five p.m. I reached the main stream, and feared I should have to encamp without tents, as I could hear nothing of the party. One of the men volunteered to go back to search for them, and at sunset they were all collected.
I know of no sounds more curious than those which are sometimes heard in the old forest. Last night we frequently noticed the cries of the Argus pheasant, both male and female. In the deep silence one is startled by the thrice-repeated “Tu-wau,” in a clear and sonorous tone, and that is the crow of the cock. The cry of the female is similar, but more quickly repeated; but both are very pleasing to hear. Occasionally, also, we could distinguish the clear and distinct note of the Jelatuk bird, which a stranger might mistake for the echo of a stroke from an axe.
There is another sound, only heard in the oldest forest, and that is as if a mighty tree were rent in twain. I often asked the cause, and was assured it was the camphor tree splitting asunder, on account of the accumulation of camphor in some particular part—an explanation which was not satisfactory. During heavy squalls we have often been put in fear by the crash of falling timber; but our men were very particular in not pitching the tents near half-rotten trees. The Argus pheasant is found in many places we have passed during this expedition, and occasionally in the jungle we have come across open spots strewed with the feathers of the cock bird, where two have been struggling for mastery. It would appear as if they always chose the same spots for their fights, as the ground was free from grass and brushwood, and was beaten hard.
CHAPTER VII.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL—Concluded.
Stopped for a Day—Five start for Provisions—The Sick Men left behind join us—No Shoes—Weakness from want of Food—Leeches—Stop again—Collect Food—Anecdote of Female Orang Utan and Murut—Again construct Rafts—Present of a Cup full of Rice—Start on the Rafts—Abandon them—A Bear—The River—Immense Pebbly Flats—Long Walks—Traces of the Advance Party—Wild Fruit—Sour Oranges—Recognize a Hill—Fruit of the Jintawan, or Indian-rubber Plant—Find Remains of Bees’-nest—The British Flag—Reach the Madihit—Bad Conduct of the Advance Party—Food nearly all consumed—An unfeeling Father—Proposed Punishment—Ravages of the Bears—Anecdote of Ahtan—Return in the Boats—The Herd of Wild Cattle—Wound a Bull, but do not get it—A slight Supper—Start in a Sampir—Ahtan ill—The last of the Food—News from Brunei—Reach the Town—Arrival of the rest of the Party—Bornean Travelling—Measure Distance by Fatigue—Slow Progress necessary—Active Murut—Average Rate of Advance—Great Mistakes made in the Estimates of Distance—Instances—Mr. Motley’s Account of his Advance up the Limbang—Mr. De Crespigny’s Mistake in the Latitude of the River Damit and Position of the Mountain of Molu—Remarks on the Map—Causes of the continued Health of my Followers—The Tents—Mistake in trusting to Native Huts—Native Geographical Information tested—Found correct—Arrival of the Orang Kaya Upit—Tragical Death of Pangeran Mokata, the Shabandar—Two Years after—Sad Fate of a Party of Adang Muruts—Murder by Orang Kaya Gomba—Head-hunting—Heads valued, but none seen—Incident of meeting Head-hunters—No Treacherous Designs—Inefficient Government—Desecration of the Graveyards—Chinese Secret Societies, or Hués—Ahtan joins one—Robbery of the Iron Chest from the Consulate—The Sultan’s Method of extorting a Confession—Obstinacy of Ahtan—Officers of the Secret Society—Chest restored—Prisoners released—The Hué broken up—Treatment of Prisoners—Musa and the Priest—Threats—Personal Regard for some of my Followers.
9th.—This morning Musa was very feverish, so the men asked me to stop a day to collect provisions. To this I unwillingly assented, but they did little else than lie down. About nine a.m. five of the men proposed that I should allow them to leave their muskets and all their baggage, and push on as fast as possible to the boats, while I moved on quietly with the sick and sore-footed. I consented, on the condition that they would stay at the boats no longer than would be necessary to cook a meal; that then they were to return laden with provisions. To this they agreed, and then left us. The two who stayed behind the day before yesterday came up with us; it was for them I was anxious. During the ascent of the steep mountain on the 8th the last remnant of my shoes was carried away, and yesterday I attempted to protect my feet by fastening some goats’ skin over them in the form of moccassins. To-day I am trying to improve them, but with very little success.
10th.—Musa having shaken off his fever, was enabled to start; but all the men are weak, and many are ailing. Though perfectly well in health, I find that, having only had for yesterday’s dinner a glass of rice-water with the palm-cabbage, I am not fit for very long walks, particularly as my moccassins are cut to pieces by the rough stones and thorns, and I am compelled to walk bare-footed. My greatest torment are the leeches getting between my toes and crawling up my trousers, reaching even to my waist, where the tight belt prevented their farther progress. Squeezing a little tobacco-juice made them drop off, but I could not be continually stopping to do this.