The Last Voyage: To India and Australia, in the 'Sunbeam'

Directly the sportsmen came on board we started, and proceeded under steam close under Malleangau, and thence southward of the fatal Egeria Rocks to the western extremity of the island of Mallewallé, passing to the northward of Mandarilla, and to the southward of Kakabau, whence we steered for Tigabu. By noon we had steamed eighty-seven miles since leaving Kudat. Tom went up on the fore-yard at 6.30 a. m., and did not come down until 1.30 p. m., when we had virtually passed the most dangerous part of the coast. We sent his breakfast up to him in a bucket, for he did not dare leave his post for one moment, the channel being most intricate, and the only guide the difference in colour of the coral patches. He suffered considerably from the heat of the almost vertical sun, which blistered his legs, in spite of extra protection, and made the glasses, which he had constantly to use, so hot that they burnt his hands and eyes, as they did ours when he brought them down on deck.

About 4 p. m. we touched on a coral patch, in two fathoms, not marked on the chart (in lat. 6° 40´ N., long. 117° 52´ E.), which rather astonished us, and caused us to go still more slowly and carefully for some time. The sea being absolutely smooth, and the sky overcast, there was neither break nor reflection to help the look-out, though Tom thought that he had noticed something peculiar in the colour of the water a few moments previously. He was almost continuously in the foretop again from two o'clock until dark, when he took up his position on the topgallant forecastle.

We passed between Tigabu and Lipeendung, and outside Sandy Island, Balhalla, Lankayau, Langaan, and Tong Papat, entering the Bay of Sandakan at 11.45 p. m., and anchoring off the town of Eleopura exactly at eight bells.

CHAPTER VIII.

ELEOPURA

Easter Sunday, April 10th.– Eleopura looked extremely picturesque in the pale moonlight, with the grand sandstone bluff of the island of Balhalla standing out boldly in the foreground against the starlit sky; but the coast-line seemed still more beautiful in the bright morning sunshine. The brilliant light was relieved by some heavy thunder-clouds fringing the Bay of Sandakan and hanging in denser masses over the mouths of the numerous rivers which empty themselves into it. Balhalla, with its cliff of red sandstone running sheer down to the sea, is clothed on the shoreward side with the richest tropical vegetation, including vast quantities of the beautiful nepenthes, or pitcher-plant, which forms so prominent a feature in the flora of Borneo.

Mr. Flint, the harbour-master, came on board at six o'clock to offer us the hospitality of his bungalow. After breakfast he and Mr. Crocker landed with the kind intention of arranging for us to spend a short time on shore to recruit a little from the effects of the intense heat, the air being naturally much cooler on the hills than down in the bay. We had service at 11.30, and the present Governor, Mr. Treacher, and afterwards two other gentlemen, came to lunch. Later on we all landed, some of us going to the little church, where Tom read the service. There is no resident clergyman at Sandakan, but the Governor supplies his place every Sunday, except when the Bishop happens to pay a visit to the place, as he did last week.

The luxury of getting on shore to large airy rooms, with deep cool verandahs, and the feeling of perfect rest and repose, can only be fully appreciated after a long and anxious voyage in a hot climate on board a comparatively small ship. Nor can anyone who has not suffered, as we all have, from prickly heat, understand how pleasant are fresh-water baths. We all felt far too comfortable and delightfully indolent for letter-writing, or even for reading, and could do nothing but enjoy to the utmost the delights of the shore under such agreeable conditions. Our good-natured host had turned out, bag and baggage, in order to make room for us, and had gone to Government House, leaving his comfortable bungalow entirely at our disposition. Some of the gentlemen, for whom there was not sufficient room, went to another bungalow not far distant.

Monday, April 11th.– We were all up early, anxious to make the most of our time in this pleasant spot. Tom went off for a ride with the Governor, while Mabelle and Baby took a long walk with Mr. von Donop (the Secretary) and Mr. Callaghan; and Muriel and I proceeded to the top of the hill to see the Doctor. Some of the gentlemen went off shooting, and did not return until late in the day.

I had been very anxious to go to the black bird's-nest caves of Gomanton, but was assured by everybody that the difficulties would be found insurmountable. All agreed that it was absolutely necessary to await the return and the report of Messrs. Walker and Wilson, who had gone to Gomanton to survey the road and to ascertain the practicability of utilising the vast quantity of the excellent guano with which the floor of the caves is thickly covered. A shorter expedition has been therefore proposed, and it is arranged that we shall cross the bay and look at the bilian-wood cutting. The party divided, some going in the steam-launch, and some in Captain Flint's boat to a picnic on the other side of the bay. The distant views of Sandakan are very fine, as is also the aspect of the north bluff of the island of Balhalla, where the best white birds'-nests in the world are found, and are collected at terrible risk to life and limb. We glided through a perfect archipelago of small islands, where we saw curious houses, inhabited by Bajaus, or sea-gipsies. These huts are built on piles in the water, and round them dart the natives in their tiny canoes, throwing spears at the numerous shoals of fish. So pleasant had been the voyage that we seemed to reach our destination almost immediately. It was a long unfinished pier, composed of a few split Nipa palms fixed, at intervals of a couple of feet apart, on piles driven into the bed of the river. This primitive jetty stretched far out into the stream, and was reached by a ladder of the same rough style, with a space of at least two feet between each rung; not at all a landing-place for ordinary mortals – European, at all events – and only suitable for angels, Dyaks, or monkeys. Nevertheless it is the timber-loading station for ships trading with Sandakan, and stands at the mouths of Sapa Gaya and Suanlamba Rivers, down which most of the best timber is floated in rafts or towed by steam-launches from the interior. Fortunately some native prahus were drawn up alongside the pier, and into these we stepped, and so got ashore, climbing up the steep bank to the cosy little bungalow above. There we found Messrs. Walker and Wilson, now on their way back from the caves, of which they gave an interesting description. They seemed, however, to be firmly impressed with the idea that it would be impossible for us to visit them, the difficulties of the expedition being far too great for anyone unaccustomed to Borneo jungle-life. They had been obliged to swim rivers, wade through mud up to their arms, sleep in damp caves, and endure other hardships not very conducive to health in a malarious district. Of course they had got completely soaked through, baggage and all, and were now doing their best to dry everything on the grass – a process not facilitated by a tremendous thunder-shower which came on suddenly during our visit. The effect of the storm was very grand, as the heavy clouds came rolling up the bay to discharge their burden of electricity and rain just over our heads; but the moment it passed, out came the sun as brightly as ever. We had a most cheery picnic in the little five-roomed bungalow. The one piece of furniture, except the table and two chairs, which our hosts had brought with them, was a comfortable hammock-cot, of which the children at once took possession, to make a swing. While we were sitting in the deep verandah, a steamer arrived alongside the pier, towing several rafts, which we saw unlashed and pulled to pieces in true primitive fashion, the heavy bilian-wood or ironwood of which they were composed being simply cast into the river, as near the shore as possible, to be fished out at low tide. Bilian-wood when newly cut is of a dark sand-colour, and, being hard and durable, is used for purposes where those qualities are required.

All pleasant things must come to an end, and we were soon obliged to start again on our return voyage. We shipped Mr. Walker and Mr. Wilson on board the steam-launch and towed their boat. All went well till we got near the entrance to the Bay, where we encountered such a high sea that we had to cast the boat adrift to prevent her from being swamped. We stopped at the yacht to give our friends an opportunity of seeing her. Nearly all the crew, and even the stewards, were ashore at rifle-practice. Several visitors came on board and detained us for some time; so that when we landed we were only just able to have a look at the Museum and get up to Mr. Flint's bungalow in time to dress for dinner at Government House, where we found quite a large party of gentlemen assembled to meet us.

None of our sportsmen turned up to dinner except Mr. Cook. Afterwards various kinds of dances were performed by the natives for our entertainment. In some of the war-dances the men displayed much agility and gracefulness, darting from side to side in their war-cloaks of toucans' feathers, which floated out behind them with each movement. They were armed with shields, spears, and kreises. It was really a most picturesque scene, and the large open verandah of Government House, with the background of sea, sky, and distant mountains, seen in the bright moonlight, with the 'Sunbeam' peacefully at anchor in the foreground, formed an appropriate setting. The Dusuns and Sundyaks are very fond of dancing, and seize every opportunity of indulging in the amusement. In times of abundant harvest, it is said, dancing goes on in every village all night long, and night after night.

Tuesday, April 12th.– Mabelle and the children went out for a ride this morning, while Tom and I paid a visit to Dr. Hoffmeister, whom we found much better. It was very hot work walking down to the shore again, and even the children seemed to find the temperature rather trying. Fortunately for the inhabitants of Sandakan, the nights are always cool, a fact to which the little community owes its excellent health and the preservation of its strength and energy.

In the course of the morning we visited the town to see the bazaars and have another look at the Museum. There is a fish and general market at Eleopura, besides Government buildings, barracks, a hospital, hotels, several stores, and a club, to say nothing of a small temporary church, a mosque, and a joss-house. On the green in front of the Government building stands a handsome Irish cross, raised to the memory of poor Frank Hatton and other explorers who have perished in North Borneo. At the Government Offices we found a few interesting curiosities, particularly some finely woven mats that had been prepared in the interior for the Colonial Exhibition in London but were not ready in time; an elephant's tusk of enormous size, and some teeth found in the jungle near here. This collection will doubtless form the nucleus of a larger museum. It comprises also gems, weapons, rat-traps, bird-calls, eggs, stuffed orang-outangs, and specimens of native stuffs and mats. The sarongs from Java and Celebes are very curious, the pattern being elaborately worked in a sort of thick coloured wax, which makes them quite stiff. Some of them are expensive, costing sixty or seventy dollars each. There did not seem to be any of the curious fire-tubes for producing fire which we had seen in the Museum at Kuching.

I returned early on board the 'Sunbeam' to complete the arrangements for resuming our voyage this evening. Further deliberation has convinced us that the visit to the Gomanton Caves is quite out of the question, notwithstanding the kind offers of assistance which we have received from Mr. Treacher and others. We have accordingly decided to content ourselves with an attempt to reach the Madai Caves in Darvel Bay, which are said to be somewhat easier of access. Mr. Treacher, Mr. Crocker, and Mr. Callaghan have offered to accompany us, and to engage the requisite men for the expedition.

There was a large party to lunch at Government House, and more came in afterwards to attend my informal Ambulance meeting, at which the Governor took the chair, and Tom explained the work of the society. I also ventured to say a few words, and Mr. Crocker supported the movement very cordially. Everybody in Eleopura was present, besides many from Kudat and Silam, and all seemed interested in the subject. Dr. Walker took the scheme up warmly. I earnestly hope it may go on and prosper. There can be no country where it would be more likely to be of use, considering the wild sort of life people have to lead here. I presented the new centre with a roll of anatomical drawings and a good many books and papers. I trust, therefore, that we may regard the Eleopura branch of the Ambulance Association as fairly started.

After the meeting, feeling very tired, I went in my chair with Mr. Wilson to the church, which is a pretty little building, and thence, a little higher up the hill, to the hospital. This appears to be an excellently well-managed institution, but is still sadly in want of a European ward, especially in view of the fact that the trade and population of the place are rapidly increasing. Ascending a few steps higher we arrived at the club, with its deep verandahs and spacious windows and doors, arranged to catch every breath of air, and to command the finest views. The cemetery lies in another valley right behind the club. It is a pretty spot, nicely kept, and quite away from the town.

From the club we proceeded to the rifle-butts, passing through so narrow and overgrown a path that my bearers declined to proceed, until Mr. Wilson peremptorily insisted upon their doing so. Even as it was, I had to walk the last part of the way. Arrived at the butts, we found that our forecastle-cook had proved himself the best shot by several points. Altogether, the practice may be regarded as highly satisfactory, considering how long it is since our men have had an opportunity of handling a rifle. I distributed certificates of efficiency, and then we all went back to an early dinner at Mr. Flint's, after which we had to re-embark. The nice-looking Sikhs who are in charge of the convicts here having carried our luggage down to the boats, there was nothing for us to do but to say good-bye to our kind hosts, and return to the 'Sunbeam' once more. We found her lying alongside the wharf, where she had come to take in water, and quite crowded with our new friends, who were determined to see the last of us, and who almost all brought us some little curio to keep in remembrance of our visit to Sandakan. The tide was low, and it was no easy task to get down to the deck of the yacht from the somewhat lofty pier. At last we were safely on board, and slowly steamed away, amid a volley of ringing cheers, which we returned by sending up blue lights and flights of rockets.

The carrying capacity of the yacht was now rather severely tested, for in addition to our own party we had Messrs. Treacher, Crocker, and Callaghan as passengers, besides some thirty Sikhs, policemen, coolies, and others, whose services would be required for the expedition to the Madai Caves.

Wednesday, April 13th.– Oppressively hot. We made Tanjong Unsang at daylight, and steamed southward and westward along a fine coast. At noon we had come 135 miles, and were in lat. 4° 57´ N., long. 118° 47´ E.

All hands were busily engaged during the morning in preparing the large cutter for Tab's projected shooting expedition this afternoon. She is a fine big boat, temporarily fitted with a ridge-roofed awning and boards on which beds can be placed, thus making her almost like a house-boat. Everything that could be thought of as likely to be wanted was put into her; but notwithstanding all that foresight and care could do, I felt rather uncomfortable about this lonely and somewhat risky enterprise.

In the afternoon we steamed down a little out of our course towards the island of Timbu Mata, which is said to abound with deer and wild pig, to drop the cutter with Tab and four men from the crew in her, all armed with rifles, cutlasses, and revolvers, besides their sporting weapons. Then we proceeded on our course to Silam in Darvel Bay, 175 miles from Sandakan, where we anchored about 6 p. m. A prahu came alongside at once, manned by natives and having on board a specimen of the worst type of rough Australian gold-diggers – very tipsy, poor man, and very anxious to come on board the yacht. His efforts in this direction were, however, repulsed, and we finally induced the native crew to take him back to the shore.

Darvel Bay is a most lovely spot, and in the sunset light I thought that I had never seen anything more beautiful in the world. We went ashore as soon as possible, having, however, first to climb with extended though uncertain strides up one of the dreadful wide-runged ladders which confront us at every pier. This performance landed us on what appeared to be a very rickety kind of platform, with, as usual, a great deal of open space in the flooring. Being assured that it was quite safe if we only stepped out boldly and with confidence, we advanced as well as we could, and found the task not so difficult after all, though it must be confessed that the flooring seemed terribly springy and elastic. The two small dogs were carried, but poor 'Sir Roger' was left to follow us as best he could, meeting with many a slip and many a tumble on his way. It was too dark to see much of the town, which appeared to be clean and tidy, with several well-furnished shops in the principal streets. There is also a Government station here, and an experimental garden. The harbour is well sheltered, and although it contains a good many coral-banks, vessels drawing sixteen feet of water can anchor quite close to the settlement.

The reports of explorers in search of gold on the Segama River are satisfactory. A road is now being constructed which will render access to the gold-fields much easier than at present. It is, however, impossible for Englishmen to work the fields, and Chinese labour will most likely have to be employed. The process adopted by the natives of extracting the gold is primitive in the extreme.

We met our friend the Australian digger again, and heard that he had come down from the fields with three companions, all ill with fever, one being so bad that he had to be carried all the way. Still they were satisfied with their success, and were now celebrating it by drinking their profits away as fast as possible.

After strolling slowly up to Mr. Callaghan's comfortable bungalow, we rested a little and had tea, and then returned on board to pack up and make ready for our early start to-morrow. The steam-launch was already afloat with her boiler in her, but a good deal had yet to be done in the way of preparing the gig, fixing the awning, and stowing the stores, photographic gear, &c.

Thursday, April 14th.– It was nearly midnight before all had been arranged in readiness for our early start and possible camp-out for at least one night; and even then there was a great deal that had to be left unsettled, precise information as to roads, rivers, distances, and so forth not being easily obtainable in this partially developed country.

At 3.30 a. m. I was called, and tried to dispel my drowsiness by the pleasing consciousness that an expedition to which I had long looked forward with such deep interest was about to be undertaken, and, as we had reason to hope, through the kind exertions of Mr. Treacher and Mr. Callaghan, duly accomplished. An hour later, these two gentlemen, accompanied by Mr. Crocker, came on board; and then we started directly in a long native canoe, with a crew and escort of thirty coolies, Sulus, Dyaks, and policemen. Our destination was the famous caves of edible birds'-nests at Madai. The steam-launch, well laden with extra coal in bags, and a few spare coolies, led the way, having in tow the heavy gig, filled with provisions of all sorts, and materials for camping out. Then came the long prahu – also in tow – laden almost to the water's edge with her thirty passengers and their gear. The extent and weight of this little flotilla reduced our progress to a speed of about five knots. It was a perfect morning, and the air was quite calm except for the slight breeze which we created for ourselves as we progressed. Soon after seven o'clock the sun became unpleasantly hot, and we were glad to spread our awning. At eight we breakfasted extremely well, the necessary cooking being done over a small spirit-lamp, in the absence of kerosene or any of the mineral oils, the use of which is not allowed on board the 'Sunbeam' or any of her satellites.

A little before nine we reached the mouth of the river, and safely accomplished some intricate navigation through narrow channels between coral reefs. The mists were still lying in solid white masses in the valleys and between the mountain peaks; but the small densely wooded islets that dotted the bay were mirrored in its unruffled surface. The scene was altogether most picturesque, and reminded me a good deal of the splendid harbour of Rio; but without, of course, the Corcovado or Sugar-loaf Hill, or those curiously shaped Organ Mountains in the background. Once in the river, the view became quite different, and much more shut in, owing to the dense walls of mangrove and other tropical vegetation which lined either side of the wide stream, up which the tide was swiftly flowing. The air now seemed fresh and pure; but in other states of the tide it is, I am told, very much the reverse.

In about half an hour we reached a junction of two streams, where the boats composing our flotilla had to part company – the steam-launch to be left behind, the prahu to lead the way, and the cutter to be paddled and punted up after us as far as she could go. This point proved to be only to a small landing-place, at which eight prahus were drawn up near two temporary wooden kajang huts belonging to the bird's-nest takers, members of the Eraan tribe, to whom the caves are let. Birds'-nests, it may be remarked, are a profitable property, yielding a royalty of 15,000 dollars, or over 2,500l. a year, to the North Borneo Company.

From the cutter we embarked in the prahu, and from the prahu we finally landed in a swamp, where an hour's rest was allowed for the coolies to get their food, whilst we completed the arrangements for our return voyage, which, on account of the tide, promised to be much more difficult.

At 10.45 a. m. we commenced the real hard work of the expedition. Everyone walked except me, and I had to be carried in a very light chair by two coolies, who were frequently relieved. It was rather serious work for the bearers – to say nothing of my feelings – for they had never carried a chair before, and the way lay through thick jungle, constantly interspersed by morasses and swamps, and obstructed by fallen trees, overhanging branches, thorny creepers, and marshy streams. At first I had many misgivings, but soon gained confidence when I saw how careful the men were, and how anxious to avoid an accident. Two coolies went on in front, and with their sharp parongs cut down or hacked away the more serious obstacles. If either the chair or I caught in a tree or a thorn, or if any special difficulty presented itself, somebody appeared from somewhere and rendered prompt assistance.

I scarcely know how they managed to make their way at all through the dense jungle which hemmed us in on every side, or to disentangle themselves from the numerous obstacles which beset our path. If one of the bearers suddenly plunged up to his waist in a morass, someone else instantly came forward to pull him out and to raise the chair again. When huge fallen trees obstructed the way, one or two men rushed forward to assist in lifting the chair and me over the barricade. In less than two hours I had been borne over an intricate and fatiguing path, up hill and down dale, with frequent changes but with no stoppages, until at last we fairly faced the limestone cliffs which we had seen from the distance rising straight out of the jungle. We had passed, and in fact followed for some distance, the fresh spoors, eighteen inches in diameter, of an elephant, the sight of which caused great excitement among the natives, especially when we met other natives armed with guns.

One bird's-nest taker whom we passed had just seen two elephants, and a great palaver ensued, in which the word 'harden,' or some such equivalent for ivory, frequently occurred. Many of the trees on the line of route were very fine, specially the tapangs, the splendid stems of which, supported by natural buttresses, rose in several instances at least two hundred feet from the ground, unbroken by a single branch. In the stem of the tapang the wild bees build their combs, and beeswax is an important and valuable product of the country. These trees, either singly or in groups, are the property by inheritance of the natives; so that whenever any attempt is made at clearing, or even cutting down a single tree, one of these small proprietors is sure to come forward and swear that his interest, derived from his father, his grandfather, or some even more remote ancestor, is likely to be affected. The timber itself is valuable, and where two buttresses occur exactly opposite to one another the width of the tree is often so great that large slabs, with a fine grain capable of taking a high polish, and large enough to form a dining-table for twenty-four people, have been cut from them. The Borneo jungle is so dense, and is so completely overshadowed by the trees rising from it, that there is no undergrowth, and the effect of bareness is produced; though I dare say that, if one could only look down on the forest from the car of a balloon, the flora of creepers, orchids, and parasites would be very beautiful wherever the light and air could penetrate.

Presently we came across a good subject for a sketch. I was waiting at the edge of a broad and winding river, shaded by tall trees, and flowing over a gravelly bed, while two men went on in advance to sound the depth of the stream before attempting to carry my chair across. Just then two hunters appeared from the forest and seated themselves on large mossy boulders a short distance apart. They put down beside them their baskets and bundles of nests, their little mat travelling-bags, and their elaborately carved and cased spears, holding fast to their kreises, parongs, and bows and arrows. They were literally armed to the teeth in their own fashion – a very formidable fashion it is too – and I very much doubt whether the gun which one of them had lying beside him was not the least terrible weapon which he possessed, so skilled are they in the use of their simpler implements of the chase and of warfare.

Continuing our difficult way, we at last emerged from the green darkness of the forest and found ourselves within view of the limestone rock or mountain in which are the marvellous bird's-nest caves which we had come so far to see. The cliff presented a striking effect, rising white and shining in the bright sunlight, slightly veiled by the tall trees and creepers, the leaves of which shimmered in the hot noontide haze. The dark entrance to the caves, stuffy as it was, and obstructed by the curious framework of rattans on which the nest-hunters sleep and cook and stow their arms, was a pleasant relief to the heat and glare without. Still more welcome was the sight of the coolies bringing refreshments and cooling drinks. If I, who had been carried all the way in comparative luxury, felt glad to see them, it can be imagined what must have been the feelings of the rest of the party, including Mabelle, who had walked the whole distance, and struggled gallantly over a most uncertain and treacherous forest track. We were not able to get into the cave at the opening where the men were encamped, and had to go some way round to another entrance.

From this point, each provided with a candle to light our way, we advanced into the darkness, stumbling, sliding, and occasionally falling on the slippery rocks, but still able to admire the noble proportions of the caves, their lofty grandeur, and the fantastic shapes of the limestone pillars by which the vaulted roof was supported. The whirring, fluttering, and twittering of many birds and bats could plainly be heard in the larger caves, which were densely peopled with winged and feathered inhabitants, and the roofs and sides of which were blackened by their nests. The Segama River, which we had ascended earlier, flows through these vast caverns, sometimes over a hard, stony bottom, but oftener over or through a mass of guano many feet in thickness, into which our guides more than once sank suddenly, emerging in a state which can be better imagined than described. Split palms were laid across the most awkward places; but it was extremely difficult to keep one's footing on this primitive causeway, and despite the assistance of the gentlemen, who carried me across many of the streams, it was impossible to escape an occasional wetting.

At one point the guides and leading members of the party, going on rather too rapidly, left us in complete darkness, and after waiting some time in the hope that they would discover their mistake and return, we had no alternative but to struggle up a most fearful precipice towards the only ray of light which we could see in the distance. It really was hard work, not only on account of the steepness of the ascent, but of the slippery and slimy condition of the rocks. Sometimes we knocked ourselves with painful abruptness against hard projections, at other times we sank to our knees in a mass of soft, wet guano teeming with animal life of various kinds, but mostly of the biting or stinging character. Mr. Crocker slipped and fell down some thirty feet or so, but fortunately emerged unhurt, though covered with black slime from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot.

After tremendous exertions we reached the end of our climb, during which I had been not only once but many times sorely tempted, and even strongly urged, to turn back. When we paused to rest, our eyes, by this time accustomed to the dim religious light, could perceive human figures crawling and clambering about the roof and pinnacles of the vast cavern in which we now found ourselves, and could observe many narrow rattan ladders hanging in the most precipitous places, or stretching horizontally across almost unfathomable abysses.

Fixed among the rocks on every side were strong hooks and pegs, to which the intrepid monkey-like nest-hunters attach their long, swinging ladders. Clinging to these, they proceed to prod all the nests within reach with a long bamboo pole, split into the shape of a three-pronged fork at one end, with a candle attached. They easily detach the nests, and rapidly transfer them to a basket hanging by their side. Having cleared the accessible space around them, they then unhook one end of their frail ladders and set themselves swinging like a pendulum, until they manage to catch another hook or peg, and then proceed to clear another space in the same way.

All this goes on throughout the day, and very often throughout the night as well, for the birds are then at home, and by their appearance the natives can judge more accurately of the age of the nests, on which their value depends. Occasionally, but not very often, a ladder breaks or a peg becomes rotten, and the hardy climbers tumble into the depths below, with almost invariably fatal results. The ladders employed are sometimes, I was told, as much as 500 feet in length, and we saw some ourselves over 150 feet long. Truly the seekers after birds and their belongings, whether eggs, feathers, or nests, are a daring race, alike on the storm-beaten cliffs of St. Kilda and of Norway and in the mysterious caves of Borneo and of Java.

Imagine our disappointment when, after another severe effort, we reached the fissure in the rock which admitted the light from above, and found that it afforded no means of egress except for bats and birds. Not even a Dyak or Sulu could have squeezed his way in or out by it, and there was nothing for it but to retrace our steps. Fortunately, however, we had not gone far before we met our guides with lights coming at last to look for us, and they led us to a comparatively easy exit from the cave; though in order to reach it we had to pass over horrible morasses of guano, into which we were only prevented from sinking by a path or bridge of two-inch palm stems affording a most uncertain foothold. On the way we passed more nest-hunters, and at the mouth of the cave we found another camp of wooden framework huts, on the top of which lay several men smoking, with their kreises, parongs, spears, and travelling-bags of matwork beside them. They would not part with any of their weapons or implements, even for more than four times their value, alleging that it would bring them ill-luck to sell them while engaged in an expedition, but adding that if we would go to their village, after their return, they would not only sell but willingly give us anything we might take a fancy to.

In the course of our descent from the cave we came across ten or a dozen bilian-wood coffins, which were excavated in this spot about fifty years ago. They were of the plainest possible make, and were evidently rapidly falling to pieces. It is thought that further excavations will lead to the discovery of finer and older coffins, for it is almost certain that wherever these caves exist they have been extensively used at one time as primitive burial-places.

Arrived at last by the side of a clear running stream, we were glad to take the opportunity of performing some much-needed ablutions, and to rest for a while. How tired we all felt I need not attempt to say. It required, indeed, a great effort of the will to take a few photographs and to carefully pack the birds' eggs and nests which we had collected, before resuming our journey.

We were all sorry when it was time to leave our pleasant halting-place at Madai and start on our homeward way. The path through the jungle was, however, delightfully shady, and was altogether easier than our upward course. The last view of the cave, looking back from the little hill facing it, just before entering the jungle, will always remain in my mind, though I saw it somewhat hazily through the gauze veil in which my head was wrapped up, in order to protect me from the hornets, which had already stung several of our party severely.

I have before now been in tropical forests and jungles, and they always produce the same awe-inspiring, and indeed depressing effect. The almost solid green walls on either side of the narrow track; the awful stillness which prevails, only occasionally broken, or rendered more intense, by the shrill note of a bird, the cry, or rather pitiful wail, of a monkey, the crashing of some larger creature through the dense undergrowth, as well as the profound solitude, will easily account for these feelings. Having overcome my first sensation of nervousness, caused by constant slips and slides on the part of my bearers, I had an excellent opportunity for contemplation until, in little less than two hours after leaving our last halting-place, we reached a spot close to where we had landed.

It was delightful to find that in our absence a charming little house had, by a piece of kind forethought, been built for us on the banks of the clear running stream. Raised as if by an enchanter's wand, this hut in the jungle was an inestimable comfort, and enabled us to rest quietly for a short time. At first it was proposed that we should certainly dine and possibly sleep in it; but when it was remembered that, pleasant and picturesque as might be the situation, we were still in the midst of a malarious mangrove swamp, prudent considerations prevailed, and it was decided to move on. After giving time, therefore, to the coolies to cook and eat their well-earned repast, everything was put into the prahu, which lay half in and half out of the water. Mabelle and I then seated ourselves in the centre of the boat, while everybody else pushed and shouted; some walking, some wading, some occasionally swimming. Thus we proceeded down the shallow stream, the prahu frequently on her beam-ends on one side or the other, until righted by friendly hands; shipping comparatively little water, but still taking in enough to make everything damp and uncomfortable.

It was a curious sight, the long boat, pushed by fifty or sixty natives and about a dozen Europeans, now in the water, now almost out of it. More than once I thought the natives must have been jammed between the bank and the boat when they slipped into a deep hole, and the great length of the prahu prevented her from turning quickly. At the nest-hunters' landing-place we found ourselves fairly high and dry, and had to be carried, prahu and all, for some little distance until we reached the deeper water beyond, only to find our further passage blocked by the trunk of a huge tree, so firmly imbedded in the mud that the united efforts of our large band of followers were powerless to move it. We had therefore to be pulled and hauled over the obstacle – a feat accomplished with much shouting and hullabaloo. First our long sharp prow rose in the air, submerging our stern, and taking, of course, some water on board; then the process was reversed, and we went bows under. At last we emerged quite safely and in deep water. Most of the swarm of swimmers quickly scrambled into the boat and converted themselves into paddlers, while the remainder swam ashore and either waited on the bank for the return of the prahu or shouldered their kajang mats and cooking-utensils, and trudged off again through the swampy jungle to the little rest-house which we had quitted a short time before. In the fast-fading twilight the scene looked picturesque and characteristic.

Resuming our now rapid voyage down the stream, we presently reached the spot where our own boats were waiting for us. Mabelle and I at once took possession of the cutter, the gentlemen of the steam-launch, and all proceeded, as far as circumstances would allow, to change our wet and dirty clothes. Then we joined company, and as soon as the prahu had discharged all her passengers and cargo our little flotilla proceeded in the original order down the river. On the way we enjoyed a capital little dinner, commencing with small fish about three inches long speared by a boat-hook, and concluding with quite the most delicious pine I ever tasted, grown in the experimental gardens of Silam.

At last we reached the mouth of the river, and were once more on the bosom of the open sea. Rather an agitated bosom it was too, just now, heaving in such a manner as to toss the cutter about a good deal and threatening to completely upset the native boat with its heavy load. In fact, the prahu behaved in the most alarming manner, absolutely refusing to steer, and turning broadside on to the constantly increasing swell. Our native pilot, too, in the steam-launch, did not mend matters by steering a very erratic course, and going a good deal further out to sea than was necessary. The islands, however, soon afforded shelter, and the moon rose over a scene of comparative calmness and repose. Most of us took advantage of this condition of things to rest a little after the labours of the day, and we found ourselves actually alongside the yacht before we had any idea we were near her. It was exactly half an hour after midnight, and Tom was delighted and greatly relieved to see us, having quite abandoned all hope of our appearing until the morning, and having conjured up all sorts of gloomy forebodings as to the ill-effect of sleeping in mangrove swamps, besides attacks from hostile natives, and other horrors. The three gentlemen went off in our launch, towing the prahu, after receiving our warm thanks for the great trouble which they had taken, to which we were entirely indebted for the success of a most interesting expedition. With a grateful heart for pleasure enjoyed and difficulties overcome, I went to bed, completely worn out, at the end of what may fairly be regarded as another red-letter day of the present cruise.