Part 6 (1/2)
This intelligent, man-like ape is probably not so common in Dutch Borneo as he is supposed to be. Mr. Harry C. Raven, who collected animals in the northeastern part, told me that in a year he had shot only one. The orang-utans are generally found in Southern Borneo and do not go very far inland; in Central Borneo they are extremely rare, almost unknown. It is to be hoped that these interesting animals will not soon be exterminated.
A Malay, the only hunter in Sampit, told me that some are so old that they can no longer climb trees. When wounded an orang-utan cries like a child in quite an uncanny manner, as a Dutch friend informed me. According to the Dayaks, it will wrest the spear from its attacker and use it on him.
They also maintain, as stated elsewhere, that orang-utans, contrary to the generally accepted belief, are able to swim. Mr. B. Brouers, of Bandjermasin, has seen monkeys swim; the red, the gray, and the black are all capable of this, he said.
From a reliable source I have the following story. Eight Malays who had made camp on a small promontory on the river, one morning were sitting about sunning themselves when they were surprised to see an orang-utan approaching. He entered their camp and one of the Malays nearest to him instinctively drew his parang. Doubtless regarding this as an unfriendly action, he seized one of the poles which formed the main framework of their shelter and pulled it up, breaking the rattan fastenings as if they were paper. The Malays now all attacked with their parangs, but the orang-utan, taking hold of the end of the pole, swept it from side to side with terrifying effect, and as the locality made it impossible to surround him, they all soon had to take to the water to save themselves.
My informant, who had spent several years travelling in Southern Borneo buying rubber from the natives, told me that one day his prahu pa.s.sed a big orang-utan sitting on the branch of a tree. The Malay paddlers shouted to it derisively, and the animal began to break off branches and hurled sticks at the prahu with astonis.h.i.+ng force, making the Malays paddle off as fast as they could. The several points of similarity between man and highly developed monkeys are the cause of the amusing saying of the natives of Java: the monkeys can talk, but they don't want to, because they don't like to work.
The controleur obligingly put the government's steam launch _Selatan_ at my disposal, which would take me to the kampong Sembulo on the lake of the same name, whence it was my intention to return eastward, marching partly overland. One evening in the middle of June we started. On entering the sea the small vessel rolled more and more; when the water came over the deck I put on my overcoat and lay down on top of the entrance to the cabin, which was below. The wind was blowing harder than it usually does on the coasts of Borneo, and in the early morning shallow waters, which a.s.sume a dirty red-brown colour long before reaching the mouths of the mud-laden rivers, rose into waves that became higher as we approached the wide entrance to the Pembuang River.
The sea washed over the port side as if we were on a sailing-boat, but the water flowed out again through a number of small, oblong doors at the sides which opened and closed mechanically. The launch, which was built in Singapore, behaved well, but we had a good deal of cargo on deck as well as down in the cabin. Besides, the approach to Pembuang River is not without risks. The sand-bars can be pa.s.sed only at one place, which is twelve or thirteen metres wide and, at low water, less than a metre deep.
The route is at present marked out, but in bygone years many s.h.i.+ps were wrecked here.
As the sea became more shallow the yellow-crested waves of dirty water mixed with sand a.s.sumed an aspect of fury, and lying on my back I seemed to be tossed from one wave to another, while I listened with some apprehension to the melodious report of the man who took the depth of the water: ”Fourteen kaki” (feet)! Our boat drew only six feet of water; ”Seven kaki,” he sang out, and immediately afterward, ”Six kaki!” Now we are ”in for it,” I thought. But a few seconds more and we successfully pa.s.sed the dangerous bar, the waves actually lifting us over it. My two a.s.sistants had spent the time on top of the baggage and had been very seasick. We were all glad to arrive in the smooth waters of the river. The captain, with whom later I became well acquainted, was an excellent sailor, both he and the crew being Malays. It was the worst weather he had experienced in the two years he had been at Sampit. According to him, conditions in this part of Borneo may be even more stormy from August to November.
In the Malay kampong, Pembuang, I procured a large pomelo, in Borneo called limao, a delicious juicy fruit of the citrus order, but light-pink inside and with little or no acidity. After the exertions of the night this, together with canned bacon, fried and boiled potatoes, furnished an ideal midday meal. Necessary repairs having been made to the engine, next day, on a charming, peaceful afternoon, we continued our trip up the river. An unusually large number of monkeys were seen on both sides, and the men sat on the railing, with their feet hanging outside, to look at them. The red, long-nosed variety did not retreat, but looked at us calmly from the branch where it sat; other species hurried off, making incredibly long leaps from branch to branch. Shortly after sunset we threw anchor.
Lake Sembulo is about sixteen kilometres long by about one in width. The lake is entered suddenly, amid clumps of a big species of water plant which in season has long white odoriferous flowers. Very striking is the white bottom and the beaches consisting of gravel or sand. How far the sandy region extends I am unable to say, but Mr. Labohm, the chief forester, told me that in the Sampit River region northeast of here, and about twenty metres above the sea, he walked for two days on whitish sand, among rosaceae and azale, the forest being very thin. The comparatively clear water is slightly tinged with reddish brown on account of its connection with the Pembuang River, which has the usual colour of Bornean rivers. Low receding hills rise all around as we steam along, and the utan, which more or less covers the country, looks attractive, though at first the forests surrounding the ladangs of the Malays are partly defaced by dead trees, purposely killed by fire in order to gain more fields.
After a couple of hours we arrived at kampong Sembulo, which has an alluring look when viewed from the lake, lying on a peninsula with handsome trees which mercifully hide most of the houses. The kapala of this Malay settlement, who came on board in a carefully laundered white cotton suit, had courteous manners. He kindly arranged for three prahus to take us and our belongings ash.o.r.e.
There was a diminutive pasang-grahan here, neatly made from nipah palm leaves, where I repaired, while Chonggat and Ah Sewey put up tents near by. The presence of two easy chairs which had been brought from Bandjermasin seemed incongruous to the surroundings, and had an irritating rather than restful effect on me. Both Malays and Dayaks are very desirous of securing European furniture for the house of the kapala, and will carry a chair or table for hundreds of miles. On the occasion of my visit to the Kenyah chief of Long Pelaban, in the Bulungan, he immediately went to a heap of baskets and other articles occupying one side of the big room, dug out a heavy table with marble top, which was lying overturned there, and proudly placed it upright before me to be admired. That this piece of furniture had been brought so great a distance over the kihams was almost incomprehensible.
I had a talk with the kapala and a large number of people who soon gathered in front of the pasang-grahan. The Dayaks who originally lived here have disappeared or amalgamated with the Malay intruders, who in this case are largely composed of less desirable elements. It soon became evident that no information could be gained from these people in regard to the traditions of the place. One man said that if I would wait four or five days (in which to be exploited by the wily Malay) he would undertake to bring me three old men of the place, whereupon the kapala, who was more obliging than the rest, went to fetch one of these, who pretended to have no knowledge in such matters.
In order to get relief from the increasing throng of men and boys, I went for a walk, in which I was joined by the kapala and the mantri, a small native police authority whom the controleur had sent with me to be of a.s.sistance in making arrangements with the Malays. An old-looking wooden mosque, twenty years old according to reports, stands at the turn of the road. Near by is a cemetery covered with a large growth of ferns and gra.s.s, which hides the ugly small monuments of the graves. The houses lie along a single street in the shade of cocoanut-palms and other trees. On account of the white sand that forms the ground everything looks clean, and the green foliage of handsome trees was superb. Everywhere silence reigned, for the women, being Mohammedans, remain as much as possible inside the houses, and no voice of playing or crying child was heard.
On returning from our walk, near sunset, I asked the kapala how much I had to pay for the bringing ash.o.r.e of my baggage. ”Fifteen rupia” (florins) was the answer. As things go in Borneo this was an incredibly excessive charge, and as my intention was to go by boat to the Dayak kampong on the lake, and from there march overland to the small river, Kuala Sampit, I demanded to know how much then I would have to pay for twenty men that I needed for the journey. ”Five rupia a day for each,” he said. Dayaks, who are far more efficient and reliable, are satisfied with one rupia a day.
Those near by protested that it was not too much, because in gathering rubber they made even more a day. At that rate it would have cost me a hundred florins a day, besides their food, with the prospects of having strikes for higher pay all the way, according to the Malay custom.
Luckily the _Selatan_ had delayed its departure until next morning, so I was not yet at the mercy of the greedy natives. The kapala seemed to have as little influence with the people as the mantri, who plainly was afraid of them. I got a prahu and went out to the captain, who arranged to take us back next day, away from these inhospitable sh.o.r.es. At dusk he accompanied me ash.o.r.e, and in a refres.h.i.+ngly courageous manner read them the text, telling them that I, who came recommended from the Governor-General, was ent.i.tled to consideration; that it was a disgrace to the Malay name to behave as they had done, etc. While I was eating my evening meal two long rows of men were sitting outside on the ground, watching the performance with close attention.
Next morning the _Selatan's_ boat came to a.s.sist in bringing us on board again. After the captain's severe arraignment last night the mantri seemed to have spurred up his courage. He said that two rupia would be sufficient to pay for our luggage. I gave one ringit (f. 2.50), which the captain said was ample. The kapala, who had exerted himself to get our things on board again, thanked me for the visit and we steamed away, arriving safely in Sampit a couple of days later.
CHAPTER XII
THE WAR CHANGES MY PLANS--CHOLERA--UP THE GREAT BARITO RIVER--PURUK TJAHU-- DECIDE TO STAY AMONG THE MURUNGS--A DANCING FEAST
In the beginning of July I returned to Bandjermasin, where I packed my collections and despatched them to Europe. I decided to send what goods I had, with my two a.s.sistants, to Maca.s.sar on Celebes, where the Dayaks who were to take part in the New Guinea undertaking would also be transported.
It might be possible for Chonggat to do some collecting in the neighbourhood of the town. At all events, it would be more convenient to have them wait for me there than to take them to Java. Having secured pa.s.ses from the resident for the two men, and given them recommendations to the Norwegian consul in Maca.s.sar, I departed for Batavia to take the last steps in fitting out my expedition to New Guinea.
At this stage of my proceedings the war broke out. On August 6 I had an audience of the Governor-General, who informed me that he was then unable to let me have either soldiers or s.h.i.+p for my explorations. The day before he had recalled his own great expedition on the Mamberamo in Northern New Guinea, and advised me to wait for a more favourable opportunity, promising that he would later give me all a.s.sistance. The commanding general was equally agreeable. As I had never been in British India I decided to go there while awaiting developments regarding the war, so the following Sat.u.r.day found me on my way to Singapore. Here I first arranged for the safe return of my two a.s.sistants, who had been left in Maca.s.sar, where cholera had broken out. Usually natives, who range under the category of labourers, go as deck-pa.s.sengers on steamers in the East.
Therefore, after I had bought second-cla.s.s tickets for them, and the Dutch Packet Boat Company had courteously offered to have a man meet them on arrival, I felt satisfied that they would have no trouble in landing. I then continued my journey over Penang to Madras.
In spite of the continuation of the war and the great fascination of India, in April, the following year, 1915, I decided to return to the Dutch Indies and undertake an expedition to Central Borneo, parts of which are unexplored and unknown to the outside world. Briefly, my plans were to start from Bandjermasin in the south, ascend the Barito River, and, branching hence into its northern tributary, the Busang, to cross the watershed to the Mahakam or Kutei River. Following the latter to its mouth I should reach the east coast near Samarinda. This journey, I found, would take me through a country where were some tribes never before studied.
At Colombo I took the Dutch steamer _Grotius_, which gave me a very pleasant week. The Dutch are a kindly nation. There were fifteen children on first-cla.s.s playing on deck, and I never heard them cry nor saw them fighting. After more than nine months' absence I again found myself in Batavia, and from there I went to Buitenzorg to ask an audience of the Governor-General. He offered to give me all a.s.sistance in furthering my project, and I had the pleasure of being invited to dine at the palace. A large open carriage, with quaint, old-fas.h.i.+oned lanterns, called for me.