Our guides became very nervous as the clouds rose and now occasionally topped the precipice, and broke, and swept up the slopes, enveloping us. They urged me to return; I saw it was necessary, and complied, as the wind was rising, and the path we were to follow was hidden in mist. We found the air pleasantly warm and very invigorating; the thermometer marked 62° in the shade; and as we perceived little rills of water oozing from among the granite rocks, the summit would prove a much better encamping ground than our cold cave, where the sun never penetrates. The Ida’an, however, feared to spend one night in this abode of spirits, and declined carrying my luggage. Our return was rather difficult, as the misty rain rendered the rocks slippery, but we all reached the cave in safety. Here I received a note from Mr. Low, but he was still unable to walk. The bathing water was 49°. During the night the temperature fell, and the registering thermometer marked 41°. My feet were so injured by yesterday’s walking that I was unable to reascend the mountain to collect plants and flowers, so sent my head man Musa with a large party. I, however, strolled about a little to look for seeds and a sunny spot, as the ravine in which our temporary home was, chilled me through. I was continually enveloped in mist, and heard afterwards to my regret that the summit was clear, and that all the surrounding country lay exposed to view. The low, tangled jungle was too thick to admit of our seeing much. I climbed the strongest and highest trees there, but could only get glimpses of distant hills. Thermometer during the night, 43°, while in the cave yesterday it marked 56° at two o’clock. Started early to commence our descent, collecting a few plants on our way; the first part of the walking is tolerably good--in fact, as far as the spot where we rested for breakfast on our ascent. It is in appearance a series of mighty steps. Passed on the wayside innumerable specimens of that curious pitcher-plant the _Nepenthes villosa_, with serrated lips. After leaving the great steps, our course was along the edge of a ridge, where the path is extremely narrow; in fact, in two or three places not above eighteen inches wide--a foot of it serving as parapet, six inches of sloping rock forming the path. From one of these craggy spots a noble landscape is spread before us, eighty miles of coast-line, with all the intervening country being visible at once. With one or two exceptions, plains skirt the sea-shore, then an undulating country, gradually rising to ranges varying from two to three thousand feet, with glimpses of silvery streams flowing among them. The waters of the Mengkabong and Sulaman, swelling to the proportions of lakes, add a diversity to the scene.