Acta Neerlandica 13
(2016)– [tijdschrift] Acta Neerlandica–
Auteursrechtelijk beschermd
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Aanhangsel | |
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Residency, Tampasuk.
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on putting sticks into these holes the bubbles rose more freely. To occupy us part of the time we had to wait for low tide, we dug a well only six yards outside aforesaid sticks, which appeared to mark a sort of orifice; we dug one fathom deep, but could not even catch the scent; the stiff clay seems to form a barrier towards that higher part of the shore. November 7. - Went to work early in the morning when the scene began to get dry. In the meantime we could notice that there was a three feet rise of tide, and that ebb-tide was then setting five knots an hour, which involves a large quantity of the mineral oil being each time carried out to sea, and should promise that the deposit of petroleum has an inexhaustible supply from somewhere; whether the flow be intermittent or irregular I had no opportunity of observing. When the spot had become denuded, we worked holes where the stuff was oozing out, and soon had as many springs yielding oil and water; the clayey soil itself was then found highly bituminous for a surface extent of 80 square yards. To fill two jars with crude petroleum took merely the time required to raise it from our improvised well; we also filled two kerosene cases with the matrix itself, which will give an idea of what a ton of earthy matter may yield. As we sank a couple of yards deep, the proportion of bitumen evidently increased. The rock near the well is ordinary clay containing some hydrated oxide of iron, I cannot say on what that formation may rest but in digging we now and then came on pieces of very massive lignite. Outside those 80 square yards no bitumen could be found, but we did not however carry our search far. The ebb-stream brought no indications of petroleum from up country, and people say this is the only outcrop known. The Illanuns formerly used the solidified petroleum to give the bottoms of their prahus a coating. The foregoing may be considered to indicate the existence of a respectable well - perhaps worth while working; in that case a regular dock could be easily constructed with the means available on the spot - plenty of wood and stiff clay, so that the water would no longer interfere with the work. The river bed is here at high-water mark some 30 yards wide, but the ‘shale’ is entirely on the left bank and out of the main sweep. In any case, the locality can be utilized in making up fuel for a steam launch, which, I understand, is to ply on this coast before long. Left the Sekuati in the afternoon. The monsoon, having taken a fresh start, makes beating to the southward difficult. | |
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November 8. - At sunset we sought shelter behind Tandulit Point, the next headland to the south of Tamboururan (Admirality Chart, ‘Ganda Head’.)
November 9. - Decided on walking to Layer-Layer, as it promised to continue blowing for several days. The prahu will take the petroleum and my report to the Abai. Reached Layer-Layer after three hours' walk along the sea-shore. Passed the rivulets of Anderasan (Datu Salembatan) and Kanyong (Sultan Salembak). Memo. - Mouth of the Layer R. where on the chart ‘Pirate R’. Sultan Sekoyan, of Layer-Layer, received me in full dress, and was not easily persuaded to save his gunpowder. Various other chiefs came in; among Illanuns every adult is, if not a slave, at least a Datu. There we found the three buffaloes which I had ordered to be brought from the Abai. Sent these to Tandulit Point to fetch our goods. I am glad to notice here a sign of activity, half-a-dozen females weaving Sarong-cloth.
November 10. - From Layer-Layer to Tigaman: about 16 miles in 3 ½ hours; main direction, E.S.E. Tigaman: 5 houses; 25 families; headmen Limbabat and Mandalan. Lost half-a-day, the buffaloes returning from Tandulit Point only at one o'clock. Of the men, three have already broken down; one with a badly inflamed eye, one with sore legs and a third with ague. Left the sick parties in the prahu and walked to Tigaman, a Dusun village on the Marudu side. The path leads almost entirely along the rivulets Layer and Tigaman. Creased the waterparting at an altitude of 600 feet; the same is nearer the Marudu side. Second-growth forest and some old jungle; a little bamboo and an amount of wild plantains; nowhere an attempt at planting; no house between the two places either (not as between Kudat and Luru). Slatey rock and sandstone. Put up at the ‘big house’ after dusk. People at first reserved, almost suspicious: then the genial Dusun ways broke through, and we turned in as open friends.
November 11. - To Tamemison; 5 miles in 11 hours; main direction, S. Karosong: 2 houses; 15 families. Dakoton: 4 houses; 20 families. The plain round Tigaman is well planted with rice and Indian corn. Distance to Tamemison five miles; quite a pleasant stroll. On the road the Dusun hamlets, Karosong and Dakoton. We found Datu Mamad and his village all right. He has started planting sugar-cane, and to-morrow morning is going to give us a lift in his prahu to Bongon. I accepted his | |
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friendly offer, the country between this and Bongon having no particular interest.
November 12. - Reached Bongon and found the old Sheriff full of attention. He showed me a mineral found in the country, which, in lamplight and at first sight looked like an antimony ore. Sheriff Shea himself took it for that and intended an agreeable surprise (‘Sarawak stone!’) Our proposal of travelling to the head of the Sogut Kiver by way of the Upper Tandek and Upper Bengkoka is met by the friendly advice to avoid that circuitous difficult route; or to use it only for the return voyage. I shall therefore go up the Bongon again.
November 13. - After having partaken of a buffalo, which Sheriff Shea had killed for the occasion, we started on the same track we had trodden eight weeks ago. S. Shea gave us two of his man and two buffaloes, to be at our service as far as Mumus, and then return to Bongon. Before reaching Timbang Batu (at nightfall) a heavy rain overtook us, and soaked us most thoroughly. Never mind us but the stores.
November 14. - We are bound to make a day's halt; a whole day, as Tankal takes a whole day's travel. In the meantime it goes on pouring, and the Bongon is growing wilder.
November 15. - This morning Si Ong, the interpreter, fell out, sick with an asthmatic complaint. He was left behind in Timbang Batu; Sheriff Shae will take care of him on coming back to Bongon; at present Si Ong is in the good hands of friendly Dusuns. An immediate consequence of our last trip on the Bongon, is that the Dusuns again visit Bongon ‘City’, and that the fortnightly market there could be re-opened. The Sayap-Kinorom people also descend as far as that. We could notice how the forest - path had become a well-beaten track, whereas two months ago we had to cut our way for several miles. The rainy season seems to be in full sway hereabout, but the people are only now sowing their padi; this not only in the hills, but also at Bongon on the sea-side. At Tigaman the stalks are two feet high, and at Tampasuk the grain is almost ripe for cutting. Dressing the fields so late would imply that the rainy season for the Bongon districts has barely commenced. The mountain-chain running from Kinabalu to Sampanmangio must have its influence on the condensation of atmospheric vapours; - I mean where the range is high. | |
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To-day, at noon, emerging on the Sonchum Reach, we saw two females in the midst of a swollen stream struggling against being swept away; up to their waists in the water, heavy loads on their backs, a single weak prop, and the younger Dusun girl clinging to the older one - and the roaring rapid but a few yards off. Thus we found them making an attempt to ford the river, but they were extricated in time. The remarkable thing was that the poor girls in their predicament did not scream at all, although their becoming upset entailed drowning. Memo. - Correct in last Diary: Timbang to Tankal, about 16 miles in 8 hours.
November 16. - Went on to Merak-Perak, after having slept at Tankal in Siobud's house. Durahman, chief of the Kinorom Dusuns, volunteers to go with us as far as Moroli. These people had been already on the road to Tampasuk in order to fetch their goods, but ‘a bad bird’ made them turn back; they will now come at a future date, and also our buffaloes, which will be left behind at Mumus. We are at this moment enjoying the situation, sitting with the Dusuns round the Damar-light, snug and dry, whilst outside it pours tigercats.
November 17. - Fording, in the course of to-day's travel, gave trouble, but also cause for much laughter. From here, at Mumus, the real work of our excursion begins. To-morrow we shall move S.S.E. instead of W.S.W. towards Kias, as last time. We could not now look after the copper at the latter place, the bed of the Kinorom being flooded almost to the highest mark, but these freshets are likely to bring further indications of that metal to light; I was shown copper pyrites as well, the former of a fine golden yellow and of a promising yield to the knife. The ensuing dry season will be the proper time for exploring this country as a mining region. I cannot help calling it so. November 18. - From Mumus to Moroli, main direction S.E. about 15 miles in 6 hours, Moroli: 5 houses, 12 families; old man, Botokok. Had to send policeman Ali back as unable to sustain fatigues of the sort in question; the man returns to Bongon, together with Sheriff Shea's men and buffaloes. We came to Moroli by crossing the range which runs from the Tambuyukon towards E.N.E. and N.E. That range has four different ridges from 1,900 to 2,000 feet high, the southernmost of which forms the parting between the affluents to the Bongon and the Sugut. The declivities | |
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are in places steep. The route leads through a dense forest and across three rivulets: - the Tanggal, the Kokobuan and the Lowoki. The beginning of the road lies along the Sarinchim, which torrent falls into the Kinorom just below Mumus. Only on approaching the village of Moroli we could take a view of the country ‘behind’ Kinabalu, as we use to say at Tampasuk. The mountain itself was all but clouded. A chain, about 4,500 feet high, borders Kinabalu to the N.E., which chain, extending S.E. to N.W., appeals like an enormous breastwork to the mountain as a redoubt, the Kopuskan valley forming the ditch, and the Tambuyukon a formidable bastion. The whole looks from this side quite impregnable. To people coming past the north of Borneo, say off Marudu Bay, Kinabalu appears in the shape of an enormous wedge, that is to say, gently sloping away towards the N.E. or East. The ascent is in consequence supposed to be an easy one from that side; but the view is delusive through aforesaid ranges. Kinabalu from the N.E. and East is evidently impracticable; an ascent of Tambuyukon Peak will be best effected from the N.W. The sky-line towards the east and south is formed by high ranges in which various peaks are conspicuous; three pinacles bearing due S.E. are said to be in the Tinagas country. Moroli itself is situated on the north-western face of what seems a circular basin 1,600 feet above the sea. The soil hereabout must be fertile, as Moroli supplies the Kinoroms with rice during the present dearth; besides rice, all the usual produce is grown, amongst it much tobacco. The people differ in their clothing and ornaments from those we left in the morning. The men wear their head-dress in form of a nightcap, and tie it down to the lower jaw, which makes them appear as if they had tooth ache. Then the men war armlets, hip-circles, earrings, and that awkward spiral round the neck, like the girls up Kudat; their ordinary dress, however, consists in the fig-leaf waist-cloth and nothing else. I noticed females who wore a jacket without sleeves made of some fibre. Their complexion is remarkably light; but that cannot make us sympathise with them, as they are rather a suspicious lot. I doubt if they will assist tomorrow morning in carrying our luggage, as the Kinoroms did, as far as this place; being paid for it of course. We are next bound for Tolungan
November 19. - Serapan: 2 houses, 12 families. From Moroli to Bundo, about nine miles in four hours; main direction, S.E. Bundo: 3 houses, 10 families; old man. Lunkad. | |
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Awaking at Moroli we found ourselves in a dense fog; a veritable fog. How that reminds us of the old country! We were able, however, to leave as the sun rose, and in doing so we had first to descend 750 feet, which only took 20 minutes, as ground and grass were so slippery. Having thus reached the bottom of the valley, we found ourselves at the side of the Kopuakan river, one of the two heads of the Sugut. The Kopuakan soon increases from 12 yards width to 30 yards and more, as it flows from near Moroli, first to the south and then to E.S.E.; the average depth may be three feet, and the gradient 1 in 150; its water is almost limpid, carrying but little sediment at the time. About a mile beneath the foot of the Moroli slope the Kopuakan receives on its left shore the Lowaki, a rivulet which we crossed yesterday when on the road to Moroli. At the junction stands a single house with a couple of families in it. Two miles further down the Pandilsion joins; and at other two miles distance we crossed a third affluent, the Selapan, at the hamlet of the same name, which is but a half-anhour's walk from Bundo, our present station. Our principal track was a zigzag in the Kopuakan both shores being covered by virgin forest. These shores are in places steep; the boulders in the river are serpentine, of a light greenish hue; and the gravels are derived from trap and from a metamorphic rock, with a marked greasy feel. The villages of Sesapan and Bundo form the Tolungan community, and, strange to say, these Dusuns profess to be one tribe with those of Timbang Batu and Tankal; their being now so distant from each other could certainly be explained by migration to fresh planting grounds, as alluded to in the diary of our last excursion. One connecting circumstance is certainly agreeable to us, namely, that these people welcomed us as kindly as their brethren down the Bongon did; we are again quite at home, and I may add, we are used to be so among Dusuns. There is nothing new about the Tolungan men, except that they tattoo themselves. The effect produced is quite the same as frequently seen on a stripped ‘Jack’. I told our self-pricked friends here that while men do the same thing, for this and that reason - though I am not aware really of any reason at all; however, I thus learnt that tattooing here distinguishes the men who have slain a foe in an inter-tribal war. There are five such warriors in the three houses of Bundo. The ornament begins below the stomach and rises to the shoulders, like the skirt of a coat, then down the upper arms; here the two or three parallel broad stripes end, and the fore-arm on its inner side shows a number of narrow stripes. These latter are more numerous if the man-slayer be at the same time well to do. | |
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Durahman of Merak-Perak returns to Kinorom from here. Two men on the sick list, but the rest arranged to-night a combined Dusun-Bajow entertainment, and danced furiously after having in the morning forded the Kopuakan eighteen times. These Dusuns have among their musical instruments one which might be called a bagpipe without a bag, that is to say the bag is replaced by the shell of a pumpkin sort of vegetable. The information I could collect about the topography of the Sugut river, is the following: - The Dusuns say it takes them as a rule seven days' travel to reach the mouth of the Sugut, said to be a three-branched delta. At one day's distance from here (Bundo) lies the Tinagas country. Between that and Bundo the Mokodao and the Kopuakan join, forming a broad stream, which from thence bears the name Sugut. Both the Kopuakan and the Mokodao are entered by prahus, which can go up the Kopuakan nearly as far as Bundo. The Mokodao is said to be bigger than the Kopuakan, and to take its rise from Kinabalu itself, as the Kopuakan in its turn does from the high range girding that mountain to the north-east. From Tinagas follow down-stream the villages of Inopod, Likabao, Inokaag and Luluidan. At this last place live Mahomedans who call themselves Tambunwas, of whom I could only learn that their chief is one Pangeran Saliudin. Below Luluidan are found again Dusuns in Talidusan and Pitas; then follow the Tidongs, Mahomedans who were driven out from their country to the south of Siboku by the Muruts (?); the Tidong villages, Datu Mamad of Tamemison told me, are half-a-day's travel from the mouth of the Sugut, The Sugut has down from the junction of the Kopuakan and Mokodao a number oftributaries which are mentioned by the natives in the following succession: Molitwao. Kaingaran, Manzalu, Kopugian, Tiagas, and Komonzi. N.B. Near the Tidongs' place a lake is said to exist of large extent, and ‘full of alligators’. The Paitan seems to be much inferior to the Sugut, and there is no truth in the report that they unite in their upper course. To-day it was a fortnight since we took the field at the Sekuati.
November 20. - Mawad: 6 houses, 18 families; old man, Lampei. From Bundo to Mituo: about 6 miles in 2 ¾ hours, main direction. S. Mituo: 8 houses, 32 families; old man, Borontei. Of our two sick men, one, policeman Alun, had to be left behind at Bundo; the poor fellow was down with fever, and will be taken back to Bongon by Dusuns from Timbang Batu, now living at Bundo. On the | |
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road to Mituo we went over a hill, the soil of which is a ferruginous clay with a large proportion of yellow mica in it. On one spot there is a small spring of weak brine, which supplies the people with salt for many miles around; in fact, we found a number of Dusuns on the spot carrying off salt water in their bamboo receptacles. They mix the brine as it is with their dishes without resorting to evaporation. Another such salt spring is said to occur up the Seasapan river which we crossed yesterday. Moving then to the south, we came through the village of Mawad, 1.000 feet above sea. Between that and our present halting-place, Mituo, Kinabalu was seen free from its load of clouds, just long enough for a bearing: 276 degrees, or say from Mituo, W. ¾ N. The country here is much undulated - not one acre of level land; and the high range bordering the eastern slopes of Kinabalu appears still more distinct than from Moroli. Between Mituo and the mountain the villages of Nolumad and Tampulong are said to exist: old jungle, deserted fields overrun with long grass, and the padi grounds in use. Rice is grown intermixed with Indian corn, and the caladium with sweet potatoes. The later wholesome and abundant vegetable forms a main part of our diet now that we live on what we can barter from village to village, an experiment we have tried since leaving Mumos, and are none the worse for it being so well stocked with trade goods we may hold on for another fortnight yet, the only difficulty likely to arise being from the breaking down of more of our men; we are still a dozen strong, but two of them merely stumble along and can carry nothing. I propose to strike out for the south as long as reasonably possible, then try and make for Papar. I should be sorry if we had to go down the Kinabatangan, much rather than Padas. But talking so much of our worthy selves, I never said that our new acquaintances are of an agreeable disposition, and in appearance compare favourably with the Dusuns on the west coast, being a finer set of men and evidently unbastardized. They are not more savage either, although many of them are tattooed, and all use the blow-pipe (in Dusun ‘Sopok’ not ‘Sampitan’) as their main weapon. To the one end of the blow-pipe is always made fast a spear blade. They never heard the report of a rifle; and believed us that it is much better never to become acquainted with firearms in any way. I noticed the homespun of these people is not uniform bluish gray but striped with black. | |
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November 21. - From Mituo to Mokodao: about 6 miles in 3 ½ hours; main direction, S. by W. Mokodao: 4 houses, 20 families; old man, Pangsang. From Mokodao to Lasas: about 8 miles, in 1 hour; main direction, W.S.W. Lasas: 8 houses, 36 families; old men Timbang and Linkapan. While the last four days it had fortunately rained only after sunset, today it poured in the morning as well. From Mituo we travelled towards Mokodao, in a S.S.W. course. Having crossed the Padi Hill, south of Mituo, Mansilas Village was first reached. The people there waited for us in a large gathering on their ‘common’ and offered a couple cocoa nuts, a rare gift in these parts. Crossing then the hill of Paras (1,300 feet) we came, on its southern slope, to an outcrop of the same mineral of which Sheriff Shae had given me a sample. (I shall remark on it further in the ‘General Report’ that is to accompany present Diary.) A different sort of blow-pipe from the one available hereabout will settle the matter hereafter. Should the mineral prove of industrial importance, the water-carriage will be at hand, for at the very foot of Bukit Paras flows the Mokodao, the southern branch of the Sugut, and is, during the wet season ascended by small coasting craft as far as this place. The river-bed is some 30 yards wide. We crossed to the right shore where the village Mokodao stands on a level meadow. There we rushed into the old man's house just as a heavy rain-cloud burst; the shower over we went on to Lasas, our night station. This kampong is situated on the left bank of the Langasan, which river falls into the Mokodao. To the east of Mokodao is conspicuous the cone of Lassat, to the seaward of which live the Dusuns of Kagasingan, now in a feud with the Kinorom people. The difference in the number of slain is exactly one, and that has still to be made up. The Kinoroms have the advantage. One day I hope to visit those Kagasingans. They will, of course, know that we and the Kinoroms went through the ceremony of spilling a fowl's innocent blood. I wonder whether they revers the adage, ‘Les amis de mes amis, &c.’ Moving along the Lagasan we caught a glimpse of Kinabalu, W. by N., always taking its highest pinnacle. The mountain from here appears in much less grandeur than when viewed in south-east. The road from Mokodao to Lasas was over easy ground and through a bamboo forest. Settled among the Dusuns at Lasas is an old Bajow, who lived here these last six years without moving to the coast. His companion is a runaway Palawan slave. The Bajow's name is Damerang; his livelihood he derives from growing padi, since he failed in trade. | |
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November 22. - Bonkud: five houses, 15 families; old man, Gunranad; from Lasas to Koligan about 12 miles in five hours; main direction, S. by W. Koligan: three houses, eight families; old man, Salong. The old man of Bundo, Lunkad, only this morning parted company with us. We succeded in picking up a little reinforcement at Mituo and also at Lasas. More rain, more tattooed men, and plenty of leeches. Under considerable loss of blood through the latter, we crossed the parallel of the 6th degree. A hill between Lasas and Bonkud excepted, the ground travelled over to-day was mostly level, in 1,000-1,300 feet above sea. Between Bonkud and Koligan extends a plain which took us two hours to traverse, and would be accordingly some five miles broad. The limit of its extent towards the east seems to be far off; towards the west that limit is formed by a spur of the Kinabalu, called Dalidi Nabalu. The vegetation, where not old jungle, is strong bamboo. Crossed besides the Lagasan, the streamlets Pangakatan and Luan, both belonging to the Sugut system. About Koligan, our quarters, nothing particular is to be said; the same about Bonkud, which we came through, except that at latter place, the community were assembled to witness the killing of a tame pig; proceedings were of a peculiarly cruel sort. Many spring-traps are set in the bush which have no warning tablets about them but for the keen eye of the Dusun. Our guide pointed out to us how those traps are constantly set close by the foot path, which path itself is often quite obscured. Wild pigs and wild buffaloes abound in these forests, as also deer and other game; and a travelling party could always procure some food in these regions. But the larger animals, as elephant, rhinoceros and tapir are totally absent. The natives were astonished on being told that the ivory handle of a kris was carved out of the tusk of an animal living in herds down the Kinabatangan, the name of which river, I may mention, is by the Dusuns pronounced ‘Nabatangan’, in analogy to ‘Nabalu’; the ‘Kina’ has for the aborigines nothing to do with it. Why should it? That prefix to all those names has been adopted by the Bruneis and other people on the coast for phonetic reasons, I should say. Afterwards followed the tale of Chinese settlements as having extended so far north. I took occasion to remark on this point in a former diary. But let me now meet the favourite argument by engaging to point out for every Dusun with a so-called Chinese cut of features at least one other Dusun with an accidental Caucasian physiognomy; and the fair, even rosy complexion of many of these people will certainly tend to bear out my | |
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opinion, already expressed, viz., that no Chinese colonies ever existed in the very north of Borneo. Almost everything in which the Dusuns differ from the generality of the Malayan family is attributed to an infusion of Chinese blood; and some glazed teapot found in a Dusun village is eagerly taken for a monument set by the celestials themselves. But to return to the locality we are now in: the men wear on a rattanstring round their nech a short knife, the handle of which is invariably a boar's tusk. It looks quite a pretty addition to their scanty wearing apparel. The rice-stalks are as yet little above one foot high. Coming past a field-hut (‘sulab’), an old tattoed man asked us whether we could give him some tin (for his fishing net), - an edifying request to us who are ourselves after that metal. A trip up the Sugut during the dry season will make it possible to search the drifts in all those rivers. Many of the beds are likely to be left clear then. The fine sediment in them is derived from crystalline rocks, such as syenite and gneiss.
November 23. - From Koligan to Danas: about 7 miles in 3 hours; main direction, W.S.W. Danao: 8 house, 36 families; old men, Pandahan and Linkanad. Here at Koligan we saw the first glazed potteryware inland, or rather the Dusuns themselves offered it for barter; one piece was a sort of teapot representing a fantastic bird, the other a miniature jar. Their parting so easily with these articles would imply that the old china craze has not penetrated to this secluded village. The journey from Koligan to Danao brought us face to face with the lake-problem. Our track had so to say cut into the dotted shape in which the Kinabalu Lake appears on the geographical maps. Now the Dusuns further north had always spoken of an extensive place called Danao, around which the villages are scattered so that you can see them all at a time. ‘Danao’ in Malay means lake, in Dusun, however, it has no signification, at least so far as I am aware, but for ‘lake’ the Dusuns say ‘Linatong’ and accordingly, on being questioned whether there be a sheet of water at Danao on which they could paddle about, they said there was none. When coming to Mituo and Lasas we heard of a lake on the mountains between Koligan and Danao, but that the Dusuns were afraid of going near it, there being all sorts of monsters in that lake, the water of which is quite black. However, a tattooed man, and therefore a bold fellow, engaged to lead us close enough to that dreaded spot so that we | |
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could see for ourselves. The extra fee was to be a petticoat for his wife. He candidly asked payment in advance, as he was almost certain ‘sada tagsio’, i.e. ‘big fish’, would devour us altogether. From Kaligan we ascended to 2,200 feet - a steep forest clad slope. There, on a small clearing, the two companions of the tattooed man remained behind whilst the rest plunged into the jungle due south; the path towards Danao leading W.S.W. Now the guide seriously questioned us whether our ‘sopok tatipui’, that is ‘fire blowpipes’, were all right. We assured him on this point. When we had walked for a mile's distance from above-mentioned clearing the Dusun exclaimed: ‘There, I won't go any farther!’ and we saw an opening in the dense wood, which opening proved to be a meadow of about an acre's extent, overgrown with a peculiar short hairy light green grass such as none of the native present had ever seen before. The whole looked much like a hoax, but we could confidently refer its origin to the Dusun nursery. The spot itself perhaps becomes a pond at periods. When afterwards meeting a couple of strange Dusuns, we again inquired about the lake, they were evidently horrified in consequence and said they did not know, ‘but if we wanted water we should find some a little further down, and good.’ Having returned to our companions, we descended towards Danao. This name is given to a plain of an oblong form, extending some four miles by one, running S.S.W. to N.N.E. The plain is 1,600 feet above sea, is surrounded by mountains on each side, and looks like a dead level throughout, only, about in the middle of it, a low hill admits of a good view. The plateau is, in its northern portion, watered by a brook, the Manzanaban, which meanders across it and which is utilised for wet padi cultivation in a strikingly neat way. The peasants in Upper Italy scarcely take better care of their fields. Only some twenty acres are now in growth, the stalks being ten inches high; the rest of the plain is mostly covered with Lalang (Antropogon), and the swampy parts are marked by the profuseness of that grass. Through the southern portion of the plain flows the Linogu, which river is said to be one of the two main sources of the Kinabatangan. Inspecting the Linogu was to be put off until to-morrow, when we shall come across it. The surface soil is the same rich black mould as on the Abai plain. Altogether Danao resembles what the Abai plain must have been a long time ago before the hills there were denuded of the forest. On the skirts of this plain, and partly on the surrounding slopes, are situated the villages of Ludangan, Rugading, Kitontul, Marakao, Mattan | |
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and Kondavayan. Danao itself is more towards the middle, in fact, in the central position; near to it, on the flat, stands Kondavayan. Perhaps for the former reason, and certainly for its being the largest village, Danao gives its name to the whole district. The plain may have about 1,200 souls. Among the conspicuous mountain tops, forming apparently the outskirts, and of which the bearings appear on the map drawn up, the Boliskadus stands in S.W. by S. The same may be over 6,000 feet high; for the other mountains the natives themselves can give no distinguishing names. Considering that this plain is a remarkable spot, an oasis in a huge virgin forest, it ought to be introduced into geography under some distinguished name connected with the Company under whose auspices it has been visited for the first time. I, on my part, waive the customary privilege. The problem of the great Kinabalu Lake, I venture to assert, can be safely considered as solved. When Alexander Dalrymple, more than a century ago, was first told about the lake, the name ‘Danao’ no doubt contributed to the diffusion of an erroneous geographical notion, and the same with the vague reports of the monster-haunted water meadow. No man in Danao knows about a real lake, though they are accustomed to walk far into the country south and south-east. For aught I recollect, it was the accomplished Dr. Petermann who, as cartographer to the R.G.S., first put down the Kinabalu lake where it appears on all the modern charts of North Borneo; it was done so on a map of Borneo drawn in 1852 (?) and dedicated to the subscribers to the Borneo Church Missions; on the old chart, by Valentyne, the lake appears south from Kinabalu and in a smaller compass. But to return to Danao, where we are staying at present. The people grow, besides rice, &c., sago and tapioca; this is noteworthy: they also rear goats. A pretty custom prevails among them in welcoming a visitor. The old man's young wife walked up to me, having moistened rice in a small bamboo, I had to open my hand and she poured some grains on it, after which the rice was again put back into the bamboo. That opened their hospitality, and I may subsequently partake of their rice and betel. They are not so barbarous as to call me ‘Tuan’, they simply say ‘Pinai’, which means friends. Formerly the Danao Dusuns were head-hunters. In this house are yet kept three dozen skulls, forming no doubt an heirloom. It would be bad taste, perhaps, to ask them to barter one of those smoked human top-ends. Among the skulls in question, I noticed two which were taken from children, and it is remarkable how firmly set and how white | |
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the teeth in all of them are. Quite a temptation if I were a ‘travelling dentist from America’. Betel chewing does not seem to injure the enamel permanently.
November 24. - From Danao to Tambiyao: about 10 miles in 4 hours; main direction, S.W. Tambiyao; 5 houses. 16 families. From Tambiyao to Kiawawi: about 3 miles in 1 ½ hours; main direction, S.W. Kiawawi: 7 houses, 20 families. I am sorry I did not succeed last night in taking a meridian altitude. The nights are always rainy; and in the daytime clouds and mists interfere with terrestrial observations. In this respect travelling by day is far more pleasant. On leaving, this morning, Danao, we saw the Kinabalu towering above the clouds, and found the highest peaks bearing 315o and 323o respectively. The bearings taken as a check to the dead reckoning, the position of yesterday's standpoint on the hill results as in latitude 5o 47' N., longitude 116o 54' E., Greenwich; or, say: Kinabalu, N., 41oW., distance 25 miles. The Linogu, called by the Dusuns the origin of the Kinabatangan, cannot well be the source of anything less than that. The Labuk and the Bengaya rise just as little in the Kinabalu-moss as the Paitan does. The bed of the Linogu is here 1,550 feet above sea, and the river has much of the character of a torrent. It rushes down a valley which lies W.N.W., E.S.E., for about two miles from the plain, when the Linogu valley, here rather a precipice, takes a sharp turn towards N.N.W., that is, towards Kinabalu proper. The river widens when nearing Danao Plain and leaves the same in a south-easterly course. Where we forded, the river-bed is about 40 yards wide, the water at the time being not over two feet deep and perfectly limpid. The boulders are a porpbyritic granite. The right slope of Linogu Valley is formed by a mountain ridge (2,560), along the crest of which leads the path to Tambiyao. That ridge is exceptionally covered by long grass only, and from its foot towards the plain the undulated country is strewn with huge boulders of granite, which are evidently erratic, as the living rock thereabout is a compact quartz. At present those boulders are entirely out of reach of the river's agency. In times of heavy floods the Linogu certainly converts part of the plain into a swamp (jointly with the aforesaid Manzanaban), but even then nothing worthy of being called a pond is formed; the locality is simply more or less marshy | |
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at times. No tradition exists among these people about the early history of their haunt. Where the road to Tambiyao leaves aforesaid mountain-ridge (descending to 1,850 feet), the Nanut rivulet flows towards the east. Tambiyao again is situated at a height of 2,420 feet. The ground is disagreeable to walk over through its prickly scrub and sharp long grass. In the basin towards N.W. of Tambiyao are visible the houses of Poringan. We walked from Tambiyao to Kiawawi after a couple of hours' rest. All the land between the two places is overrun with second growth. The village is situated on the northern side of what seems to be an important valley. We met at Kiaweawi a number of men from Tuhan who had brought sea salt, they themselves procured that commodity from the Bajows. Pinusuk, a place on the road to Tuhan (wrongly called by outsiders ‘Tiang Tuan’) is but a day's travel from here. Between Pinusuk and Tuhan occur in in succession the villages of Mimboyon, Gundasang and Kinscraban (Inserban), all in the tobacco country, and in the immediate vicinity of Kinabalu. Aforesaid villages are the stations on the Tampasuk-Kinabalu route beyond Kian towards the supposed ‘lake’. The Dusuns say the distance between Tuhan and Danao can be walked in four days. We are next bound for Tambunan, the people of which ‘take their water from the Pagalan’ i.e., Padas River.
November 25. - From Kiawawi to Mukab about 4 miles in 3 ½ hours; main direction, W.S.W. The valley of Kiawawi, running from east to west, is more properly called the valley of Kanupir, from the river which flows at its bottom, as a tributary to the Linogu. We crossed the Kanupir at a level of 1,700 feet, and found its bed 20 yards wide, descending to it from the village of Garo. On the southern aspect of the valley, and about opposite Kiawawi is situated the village of Rasdagnag. From the height behind Kiawawi is visible, bearing N. 103o E., the peak of Mentapok, asserted by Dusuns to be even higher than Kinabalu. This mountain (the Mentapok) appears of the shape of a Phrygian cap, and it is perhaps over 30 miles off. I should suppose it to be situated not far from the junction of the two Kinabatangan head branches, according to my idea of the locality of that junction. The Kanupir takes, a couple of miles above Garo, a turn from the north, i.e. from Kinabalu. Ascending the steep denuded slope opposite Garo, we noticed that a branch of the valley runs S.W. We are likely to | |
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have to cross that part by to-morrow, but at present find ourselves at Mukab, 2,840 feet above sea-level. This community is largely growing tobacco. The Bajows from the Patatan and Inanam visit it for that reason. No tobacco now in leaf. People here set foolish prices on all other commodities than tobacco; but we are in the happy position of wanting nothing from them. Four of our men are shaken by a roaring fever, but the rest are yet strong enough to bring the sick parties to the coast; the poor fellows battle bravely against having to remain behind. Walking is more tiresome in this scrub than it was in the virgin forest, where we were continually going up and down hill. Ague in this case is no doubt due to fatigue, and to the exposure to wet, through rain, and still more perhaps to the cold water of all these rivers. The climate itself is most genial; and, strange to say, the nights are lass cool than to the N.W. of the big mountain. Those of our party who are not down are in such good spirits as to busy themselves with sewing new jackets [...] ‘in case we should come to Labuan’, as we are literally in rags. Only yesterday my men were told that our march goes on to Papar; until than I kept them in the dark as to the goal of our journey, having regard to the idea current on the N.W. coast, that ‘behind’ and to the south of Kinabalu live cannibals. Now, when the spell is broken, and when in particular the adventurous spirit of the Bajows has been kindled they seem to like the prospect; their reply was: ‘As long as you, Tuan, walk in front of us we will follow you, let it be to Banjermassing.’ [...] There is one thing which makes our natives such good material for similar excursions; bravery in combat scarcely gives a man so much credit among these tribes as when he has walked so many miles further inland than the ‘old men did’. Here, at Mukab, they brought a poor Dusun with his foot half rotted away above the ankle-joint. He offered a couple of fowls if I could help him. The gift was declined, but all that was possible was done for him. These fearful cancerous sores are frequent among the hill tribes, although the people are quite free from syphilis. When at Tolungan a heavy demand was made on our flax-lint, &c. As we approach the coast the Dusuns become a tribe musical in brass; the instruments being supplied from Brunei, by way of Patatan. At Mukab the bell-metal pans are going all day long. People further inland have bamboo instruments instead and pretty songs of their own. The latter are | |
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especially taking when given by young girls. They also sing in chorus, when the melodies almost bear the character of hymns.
November 26. - Tindaon: 12 houses, 60 families; old man, Gudan. Sumalang (Garah): 8 houses, 50 families; old man, Bansing. Nulu: 9 houses, 20 families. Pinowantei. 11 houses, 59 families; old men Liugai and Sagama. From Mukab to Pinowantei; about 8 miles in 4 hours; main direction, W.S.W. If a traveller were first to become acquainted with the Dusuns of Tambiyao, Mukab, and Sumalang, he would scarcely take a bias to the tribe, as these are greedy, inhospitable, and addicted to lying. Never mind instances in this place, but the accusation is justified. Travelling from Mukab to Pinowantei, we crossed two valleys and one mountain-ridge (3,200 feet). The configuration will be best understood from the result of a running survey carried on during these rambles. The southern branch of what was first called the Kiawawi valley has at its bottom the Sumalang torrent, and on its slopes the villages of Mukab, Tindaon, Kiwalalo, Nogaros and Sumalang or Garah. The whole is a well peopled tract of land. Through the northern branch of it flows, as already stated, the Kanupir, an affluent to the Linogu (Kinabatangan), and the Sumalang, in its turn, is an affluent to the Kanupir. The drift in these streamlets contains a large proportion of opaque quartz and clay nodules of a cream colour. The main part of the gravels is composed of serpentine and of the waste of the mountains in the back-ground, no doubt a granitic formation. The surface soil consists of a ferruginous clay; and, where landslips have occurred, the earth appears of a brick-red colour, strongly contrasting with the green vegetation on these hanger-like slopes. Crossing the range towards S.W., one comes to, just past the ridge, a village called Nulu (in 3,200 feet). The slopes of an extensive valley are almost entirely planted with rice, tobacco and sweet potatoes, only on the crests stands the old jungle. The padi, they say, yields but poorly at this elevation, and they make up for that by dressing such extensive grounds. A fine outlook to the south-east shows the country as one continuous mountainmass; but the centre of it seems no longer to be Kinabalu. The chains rather group round some stock to the south-east of Kinabalu, evidently the Mentapok, alleged to be the very highest mountain top of Borneo. Walking on towards Pinowantei, a herd of buffaloes was met, on what might be called in this part a flat meadow. Buffalows here are reared for no other purpose than food, they are of a heavy breed. The slopes are not | |
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practicable for any cattle, and the people don't know the plough as yet. A buffalo is here worth twenty tinokals or $40 (while at Tampasuk a fine riding bull costs $12 a head). The tinokal at $2 forms the unit of value, and is taken from a small gong-like instrument. Nobody remembers buffaloes being brought from outside into this tract of very difficult ground, else it would offer a chance for traders from the coast. The hill rice is sometimes grown on declivities of 45 degrees. The necessary recourse to that alone excludes any fitness of this soil for higher objects of planting. The rice is of a peculiar description, retaining a reddish colour even after being boiled. If I am not mistaken, I noticed sandstone cropping out in the valley. Pinowantei is a considerable village, and we are, apparently, welcome in it. People from here visit the head of the Inanam and also the head of the Papar river; to the latter it takes them four days, to the former only two. We are now past the meridian of Kinabalu by one point, and we ought to approach the Nabai country, but the people even yet know nothing of the existence of a ‘Nabai’, and call their own district Parsa. They do, however, speak of a Tabai which is, according to them, far off ‘where the Muruts live.’. They mean Brunei by it. These Dusuns have a way of their own in striking fire. Steel and flint is replaced by a fragment of china and a small bamboo cane. Their tinder is sure to burn on the first stroke. From fire to water: pipes of bamboo are laid at the crossings of most of the numerous streamlets, and also lead to the fields, forming neat little fountains (native aqueduct).
November 27. - Rumuyu: 8 houses, 30 families. Garas: 6 houses, 24 families. From Pinowantei to Paho: about 6 miles in 3 ½ hours; main direction, S.W. Paho: 20 houses, 80 families. From Paho to Malaud: about 5 miles in 2 ½ hours; main direction, S. Malaud: 4 houses, 10 families. At sunrise the Mentapok was visible, bearing N. 93o E., a bold lofty peak; and in N. 118o E., a conspicuous mountain was turning towards us the shape of a fountain. On descending from Pinowantei to the valley, we first passed Rumuyu village, where is a clearing planted with coconut and betel palms. Then we traversed the Nukaton and noticed the bottom of the valley widening to a flat, on which occur some half-grown sago trees. The ascent towards the southern ridge led over terraces in the mountain slope, on one of which stands the village of Paras. The ridge is crossed in 3,200 feet. Visible in this valley, besides Garas and Rumuyu, were the villages of | |
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Penompok, Kalambuan and Tabobonan. We saw the Menzango emerging below Penompok. The Menzango receives the Nukatan and belongs itself to the Linogu (Kinabatangan). The valley on the southern side of the 3,200 feet ridge first appears like a circular basin without an outlet. Same basin was later on found 700 feet deep and running from west to east, generally speaking; through it flows the said Menzango river, and there stand a score of houses called Paho. From Paho we travelled due south up a branch valley in which the Tambiluan brooklet rushes towards the Menzango. That branch valley in closed by a saddle which, being crossed in 2,900 feet, opened to us the valley of Malaud. The latter includes a small plain (2,450) traversed by the Malaud river, issuing from it through a chasm towards E.N.E. The Malaud was deep and rapid enough to almost drown one of our men, who, not knowing how to swim, let go his parcel when thrown off his legs in fording. The loss is not great considering the man is all right. The village of Malaud consists of a few dilapidated huts. To describe the nature of the ground travelled over to-day, the pen should be first dipped into mud: that will answer for the main feature. But how to depict the scramble up and down these nasty slopes? Let me say that the Dusuns are in the habit of digging steps with their spears just to get a momentary foothold, but the step slips away under the weight of the next person; down you go along mud slides, at the end of which you plunge into a slush, after having cut your hands over and over by the sharp long grass and prickly scrub. The cause of all this, the rain, we are accustomed to, but the effect is simply sickening in this part of our route from Marudu to Papar. On the whole, I should not recommend November as a time for travels inland.
November 28. - Lampada: 5 houses, 15 families. From Malaud to Gumalong: about 6 miles in 3 hours; main direction, S. Gumalong: 7 houses, 20 families. From Malaud we moved up the valley which runs south. In it flows the Malaud river mentioned yesterday, which, however, at about half-a-mile from the village, appears as coming from the south-east. At that point it receives on the left side the affluent Minonun. Picking up a handful of the river sand, I noticed in it minute scales of a plumbaginous mineral; it is sure to be nothing better than slate, but it soils the paper, though not so freely as graphite. I also happened to pick up a pebble, which shows the same characteristic as the smaller particles; and I intended to examine the | |
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deposit further up stream, but above the junction the gravels no longer contain these bluish-black laminae. The rock in the bed of the Minonun, which we had to follow. Is a quartz-veined sandstone; it would therefore appear that the Upper Malaud flows through a region of argillaceous rocks. At Lampada we only halted to engage a fresh guide. It is noteworthy that for its last five days' travel we could not get Dusuns to lead us further than a couple of villages, whilst behind Kinabalu the same natives went with us from two to four days. There in fact we engaged them by the number of nights; these here insist on their being back in their own village before dusk. We can never settle with a man who is himself homeward bound. For if we ever meet one hereabout, where so little intercourse exists between one village and the other, the man certainly tries to impose upon us; and as a rule he pretends to intend returning, according his own business, no sooner than ‘after to-morrow’. But in fact there is no business of a Dusun's which he might not profitably abandon for the ‘job’ of taking a white man so many miles further on; they clearly know that. In consequence you are always sure to be nerved. It is understood that the ‘Cicerone’ takes half a hundredweight of your goods on his back. People here do not seem to keep their agreements so faithfully as those further north; for yesterday the men that were paid to take us from Pinowantei to Malaud ran away during the halt at Paho. At Lampada we had a fine view of ‘Nabalu’; it bears N. 14o E. I should assert that the mountain from here appears under its most imposing aspect. Memo - The Dusuns of Pinuruk are said to be able to ascend from their side (S.E.) to the very highest crag of the mountain; and they are even reported to do so occasionally. I could not learn to what purpose. But one thing struck me, namely, how the folklore regarding Kinabalu varies according to districts. The Minonun rivulet receives at the foot of Lampada the Piouo, a torrent. (In the Malaud and the Minonun many fish-weirs are set.) We continued up the Piouo, and then crossed a ridge 2,940 feet high, whence 170 feet descent and 840 feet rise brought us to Gumalong, our station for the night. Old forest on the hill-tops around. Coarse pottery is the chief industry here. Tattoed man are getting scarce. | |
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November 29. - Mongis: 12 houses, 24 families. From Gumalong to Tambunan: about 12 miles in 8 hours; main direction, S.W. Tambunan: 12 houses, 80-90 families; headman, Gurongod. The houses are roofed with bamboo and frequently the roof is horizontal, making these dwellings look like cages. The floor is as a rule only high enough above ground to leave sufficient room for a stye. In consequence one has to spend the nights, so to say, ‘dos-à-dos’ with piggy underneath. The females don't know foreign cotton-yarn as yet, while their sisters up Sugut know it and like it; but these here are as keen on needles as those. Needle in Dusun is ‘louse’; in grateful return you get from these people what the plural of that word signifies in English. They are sadly infested with that wingless hemipterous insect. No vanity whatever about the girls; they are smutty-faced and toozle-headed. We yesterday passed a number of rustic damsels whose hair was quite carroty from neglect. This may have given rise to the report of fair-haired people living somewhere to the south. We changed our position to-day from 3,200 feet to 2,100 feet, through a number of levels, which on the whole show an easy lay of the ground; in fact, this eight hours' walk from Guamalong to Tambunan was quite a repose after the pedestrian drudgery of the last week. On the road we made a short halt to Mongis, which is situated on the southern banks of a morass. The latter, a knee deep bog, has about half a square mile's extent, and is 2,600 feet above sea. From Mongis we moved in a valley running south-west towards the plain of Tambunan. At Mangipangi the valley begins to widen; it terminates in a very extensive plain. As far as we could see when walking up to this village, the plain is under wet padi cultivation, the irrigation being facilitated by various running waters, the course of which I shall best ascertain to-morrow from an elevated point of view. The village of Tambunan, an improvement on the communities of late, stands on the north-eastern outskirts of this plateau, which is 2,100 feet above sea. The ground travelled over to-day bears a much varied vegetation, but the old jungle is mostly left on the highest parts of the mountains only. Also the bamboo, which, between Bongon and Danao occupies perhaps one-fifth of the forest land, is rather scarce hereabout. A herbaceous plant with prickly leaves and an eatable fruit, but growing wild, is here called ‘Nabai’; the one I noticed this morning was a dwarfish fir-like tree. But the casuarina, which is supposed to be the only conifera within the | |
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tropics, thrives, as a rule, only on low, sandy sea-shores. I have since heard from Mr. A.H. Everett, that a mountain casuarina is known. The Tambunanians, our present hosts, seem to indulge occasionally in a little headhunting. There are many skulls in the old man's house, some of which look very fresh indeed. The lower jaw-bone is wanting in them. The taste of the Dusuns in this respect is manifold. In most villages the skulls of monkeys are preserved; in others those of deer or pigs; in many only the lower jaws of deer, the carapaces of land tortoises, the bladders of goats, and the drumsticks of fowls. However, the collection of crania here, at first sight, unnerved our men a little, considering that the Dusuns were pouring in whilst the inspection was going on. Later in the evening we managed to get up a concert and dance; and after that, I think, all enjoyed a quiet sleep. No white men ever visited Tambunan before, and the people are eagerly questioning where we come from. In the first part of our journey we were asked ‘Where are you going to?’
November 30. - From Tambunan (village) to Papar (village): about 12 miles in 7 hours; main direction, W.N.W. Papar: 12 houses, 30 families; leading man, Mongei. Our first thing in the morning was to inspect the Pagalan (Padas) river, which emerges on the plateau at what might be called the north-eastern corner of it. The river issues from E.S.E. out of a chasm-like break in the mountains, and flows towards S.S.W., in which latter direction also lies the greatest extent of the plateau. Close to where the Padas appears it receives the Mahuva rivulet, along which we travelled yesterday. That and another affluent, the Sonsuron, give the Pagalan, alias Padas, only a width of twenty yards. Its depth is here about half-a-fathom, but a short distance further down lie large boulders. This, in connection with what the Dusuns told me about the bed being frequently blocked up between this and the falls, satisfied me that it would be labour lost to attempt to descend the river on a raft. The Pagalan is certainly not such a considerable stream as it is spoken of on the coast, nor does it take its rise in Kinabalu, as has been asserted; else our own track from Danao to this place would have crossed its uppermost course. But this river is, even so far south as Tambunan, and below the said junction with the Mahuva, only a rivulet. It has scarcely as much water as the Kanupir and the Menzango, otherwise this latter might have been supposed to be the parent stream of the Pagalan. The natives, besides, firmly declare the Menzango to be a | |
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tributary to the Linogu. Therefore, there are but two rivers in the Company's territory which can be called streams the Kinabatangan and the Sugut. Tambunan, which gives the plateau its name, forms, with Tolungan and Donhugo, a close group of villages. The plateau extends S.W., N.E. for about five miles, is one-and-a-half miles broad, and seems a dead level for the greatest part, 2,100 feet above sea. Its north-western quarter, over which the beginning of our to-day's route led, rises gently. I am sorry that the course we had to pursue offered no free look-out so as to enable me to give a somewhat accurate sketch of this important locality; important, because on it a denser population lives and prospers than in any other known part of the territory, The village of Sonsuron has 26 houses, in which may live 130 to 150 families; and that is said to be but the third most numerous community on Tanbunan Plain, Kapagalan and Kainganan being both reported to be larger. And there are 17 more villages scattered hereabout beside those already named: - Tandulu, Kitao, Mogong, Tampakinian, Menantian, Bolotikon, Kituntung, Musapang, Malaud (not the one visited three days ago), Tulop, Golopia, Ruminantei, Dandarasan, Guropoi, Tambatu, Mauva and Singilao. The intervening space is mostly filled up by fields and pastures. The Lalang-grass occurs only in patches. The Sonsuron meanders through its plain until it joins the Pagalan; it comes down a valley from N.W., a regular mountain torrent. The rice-stalks are now from two to three feet high. A blackish, rather shallow, surface mould covers the subsoil of ferruginous clay, which, in its turn, rests on a conglomerate. We left the plateau of Tambunan by walking up part of the Sonsuron valley. Having thus risen to 3,000 feet, we altered our course from N.W. to W.N.W., and ascended the barrier towards the Papar district. It went up to 4,700 feet above sea-level. The slope is now and then quite steep, but the projecting roots form steps, which leave nothing to be desired but - the two fellahs that haul you up the Pyramid of Cheops. Having traversed the broad ridge, the rain, the eternal rain, spoilt the chance of a set of bearings. A disheartening factor in travels, that rain! We could see absolutely nothing of the landscape and sea-coast. On the yonder slope, and at 3,600 feet above sea-level, the fine forest gives way to a second-growth vegetation. At 2,400 feet, and at the bottom of a valley is situated the village of Papar. This is the Papar which the Dusuns used to visit from as far as Pinowantei. But this Papar is still three days' travel (Dusun walk) from the Residency Papar, and is built on both | |
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sides of the Papar river, which rushes past it, forming a number of cascades.
December 1. - Menontian: 3 houses, 8 families. Gindusud: 3 houses, 10 families. Tiulu: 5 houses (?). Topopon: 3 houses, 2 families. From Papar to Tolungan: about 6 ½ miles in 7 hours; main direction, W. The source of the Papar river is evidently the drainage of this particular valley; yet at the village the Papar is a mere noisy brooklet. Three miles further down it has doubled its width, and then increases rapidly with a number of affluents. The valley runs west in the main, the river varying its course continually between the points W.S.W. and W.N.W. The range towards the sea may be, in this part, 3,000 feet high. We walked down the valley for seven hours (halts excluded), and even then cannot make out where it will come to an end. In these seven hours we scarcely covered seven miles. The road requires a good deal of boulder climbing. We put up for the night somewhat early as a man broke down with ague. Before reaching this place, Tolungan, we passed the hamlets of Menontian, Gindusud, Tinlu, and two others, the names of which I could not catch. The affluents to the Papar, not counting rills and brooklets, are the Maangi, the Tiulu and the Kalangan. The first of these issues from a break in the southern mountain chain. In the back-ground of that short valley appears the high range we crossed yesterday. We therefore came down to Papar village on a sort of spur of that range. Tolungan is 1,600 feet above sea-level, the river bed being some 300 feet lower. The Papar forms numerous small islands. Its banks are for the greater part high and precipitous. The cultivated grounds are extensive, and in some fields the rice is almost ripe for cutting. There are also patches planted with sago.
December 2. - Tolungan: 4 houses, 12 families. Tapa: 2 houses, 6 families. Tungao: 4 houses, 12 families. Tikuh: 6 houses, 20 families. From Tolungan-Kalangan to Tikuh: about 10 miles in 6 hours; main direction, W.S.W. Below Tolungan the river Kalangan emerges from a break in the right slope of the valley. This place is properly called Tolungan-Kalangan, and Tolungan, in Dusun, means the mouth of a river; hence the frequency of this appellation. We continued following the river-bed, although our guides told us there was a cut to ‘Papar-on-Sea’ across the mountains. The distance, they said, would be the same, but the ‘Bawang’ (Dusun for ‘river’, Malay for ‘onion’) is much worse. However, I prefer the opportunity of | |
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tracing the whole course of the Papar. The river meanders west, south, west, south; in a few reaches it sweeps round as far as S.S.E. the one, and N.W. the other way. At 900 feet above sea-level, it is already as wide as down at the Residency, but it is bouldered up and forms many rapids. At a level of 1,200 feet above sea a fall occurs, the water dropping from about nine feet. The Dusuns call that ‘Wasch’. Where the banks are bold, the river takes its sharp turns and causes landslips. These require an ascent and a descent of 100 feet each way, and the footing of a goat would answer best for these scrambles. Thus, while moving for the greater part in the shallow water, we had to make many a ‘portage’ without enjoying rafts. Let us hope for rafts without portages when further down. The banks are in many places rocky. The river flows in a bed of sandstone. Now and then the the rock shows a slaty structure, and in one place, just below Tungao, the right bank is built up of conglomerate. The fords were found between two and three feet deep; but fording would be mere sport but for the chance of losing one's papers. The affluents to the Papar in this part are the Kalangan, the Purog, the Ponobukan, and the Tikuh. Villages and hamlets succeeding each other down river: Tapa, Buntingnabai, Purog, Romit, Kapa, Ponobukan, Kobulu, Boyan, and Tungue. The village of Tikuh, where we find ourselves for the night, is situated up the Tikuh rivulet; how far from the Papar we shall see to-morrow morning, as we reached this place by walking from Tungao over the low range towards S.S.W. and W. Tungao was the scene of our mid-day halt. There are, besides the places mentioned, a number of single houses scattered along the river side. The Kalangan, the Purog and the Tikuh are discharged from what may be called branch valleys, the rest from ravines. In the background of the Purog valley the high range appears again. That range wants a name, it is a principal feature of the country. I understand the same range has to be crossed when going from the coast to Nabai.
December 3. - We made but little headway in the course of to-day. A few hours were spent in constructing rafts. Afterwards we enjoyed the pleasurable excitement of shooting rapids, but for a short time only, as the sick men and those that cannot swim, urgently requested to be rather allowed to walk. Heavy rain put a full stop to further considerations. The night we are about to spend in a couple of field huts. | |
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In this part the Papar river flows W.N.W.; on the right shore it receives the Bagun, on the left the Langa. The village of Lumanas is the only one we passed.
December 4. - Mondolipo: 4 houses, 10 families. When making this morning, so to say, my first step, I had an ugly slip down one of these precipitous river banks. I should never mention it for my own sake, but in my downward course everything dangling round a surveying traveller's body was torn from me; and, consequently, both the aneroid and the prismatic compass came to grief. Also a few minerals were lost at the occasion. We were then 550 feet above the level of the sea. Here we made fresh rafts; the men were nearly breaking down altogether; even a day's rest had been of no avail; and the short pause had brought the fact home to us all, perhaps. In short, we resolved to try our chance of reaching Papar-on-Sea by what seemed to be the easiest way. The Dusuns, on their part, said we might succeed, but that they themselves never raft except when crossing where the water is comparatively still. We therefore left in two floating groups of four men, and one of five. The leading party and the next succeeding one kept together, until we found the outlets between the rocks all but occupied by fish-traps. Here we jointly worked a breach in the huge barricade, and hauled our vehicles across, all out of regard for the absent owners of those fish-traps. The third raft, however, did not close up with us in the meantime, though it was only two hours since we had started, during one of which we had been busy rolling obstructions into the whirlpool. The rapids in this part were not very dangerous. Bumping on the stones vividly reminded one of rural rides in Roumania, where the wheels are four-cornered. Generally we went at a racing pace and had soon covered fifteen miles. A thunderstorm then made us seek shelter which we found here at Mondolipo. Until then the people we fell in with on the river-side had taken to hurried flight. To the question ‘How do you call this village?’ we hardly ever got an answer. Our appearance was evidently something extraordinary, and with this knowledge, so gratifying to our vanity, we retired to rest.
December 5. - It continued raining during the whole of the night, and the river was, in consequence, up. The other two rafts are still missing. We are at this instant (10 a.m.) on the sunny shore of Kagaban village, drying our papers and mending our vessel. The natives tell us we shall have | |
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smooth water down to the Residency. A tipsy Dusun says so - the first of his kind whom we came across since leaving Tampasuk. He is likely to be right, but in the meantime we experienced ‘rough sea’ in this landlocked strip of water. Those rapids just below Mondolipo are so bad that I really wish our companions behind would avoid shooting them. We heard the waters booming when at Mondolipo, and the Dusuns warned us. To a looker-on we must have simply disappeared in that surf. The Chinese boy and I took compulsory long dives; but the two men poling were simply swept away. Fortunately these Bajows swim like fish. Continued on board the S.S. ‘Royalist’. - Less than half-a-mile below Kagaban the river forms an island, on the point of which we noticed the wreck of the raft which yesterday started as third. In all likelihood the five men, two of whom could not swim, had cast it adrift soon after the leading one was out of sight. They will have to walk three days is consequence. Should it be so, it will be right enough, for the party have trade goods for six days yet, and those on the second raft are just as well provided for. Knowing the ‘go-ahead and never-fear’ style of my particular crew, I reserved for the leading raft nothing but one fathom blue cloth and a handful of beads. That paid for our supper last night. Towards four o'clock p.m. we reached the Company's station. The ‘Royalist’ had just then signalised her arrival. I decided on proceeding to Tampasuk at once, having been away one month and two days. The Resident, Mr. Everett, was absent at Singapore. On his clerk, Mr. Symons, I urged the necessity of some look-out for those nine men behind. Of the 33 miles which we floated down, the names of villages and affluents to the Papar river are only partly recorded, but the course of the river is put down more accurately. It continues in a W.S.W. direction, until some 14 miles from the Residency, when its windings mostly turn W.N.W. Of the last four miles only a single reach lies W.S.W.; all the others between W.N.W and N.N.W. The line from Papar village to the Residency Papar lies W. by S. Beginning from Kagaban village, both banks present one continuous cocoanut plantation, interspersed with numerous hamlets and single houses. The whole course of the Papar river, as traced by us, may be computed at 55 miles, - that is, between Papar village and the Company's station. Its navigability ceases some 12 miles above the latter place, say, 16 miles from the river mouth. The last dangerous rapid is about 20 miles distant. The river meanders a good deal; none of the reaches is longer than half-a-mile, and most of them are only two cable lengths. The Papar river could | |
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by no means be called an outlet for the rich district of Tambunan. A sort of outlet exists at the Patatan, but only for valuable produce, as gutta and beeswax. Whether anything reaches the coast by way of the Nabai country and the Kimanis I do not know. The experienced Abang Drahman, Resident Everett's right-hand men, told me that the Tambunan people go by the name of the ‘Great Dyaks’, that they are rather avoided by traders, and never associated with otherwise. However, the Diary is not the place for enlarging on politico-economical topics. I cannot conclude without expressing an earnest hope that my missing companions will reach the coast as safely as we four did. Then only I dare look back to our trip with a tiny bit of satisfaction. And I shall repeat to myself what I heard my faithful dozen talk over when we had emerged on Danao Plain. They questioned one another: ‘What will our old men at Tampasuk say?’ ‘What will my employers say?’ is the query with me. We did not achieve great things, but the little we did outside the round of every-day business will serve the purpose for which it was done; wherever we came to a place for the first time there we dare show our faces again. To make sure of that required a good deal of attention, for the natives are rather mixed in their temper; genial in some villages and churlish in others. However, not even the accident of ‘Misunderstood’ occurred in our intercourse with them; and no sort of accident in our own ranks. A gracious Providence let me carry the drug against sumpitan-dart and snake poison in my vest pocket, from Bongon to Papar without making me resort to it.
F. WITTI In the B.N.B. Company's employ. |
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