Life in the forests of the Far East (vol. 1 of 2)St. John, Spenser, Sir
History
Life in the forests of the Far East (vol. 1 of 2)
St. John, Spenser, Sir
Borneo -- Description and travel; Natural history -- Borneo; St. John, Spenser, Sir, 1825-1910 -- Travel -- Borneo
Several of the respectable Malay traders of the place have agreed to go
with me as guides and interpreters; among the rest are Gadore, Abdul
Ajak, and Bakir, the principal dealers with Baram. Bakir had but just
arrived from that country, and he says that the Kayans are anxiously
awaiting my arrival, having heard that I was ready for the steamer.
As he appears a very intelligent fellow, I will note down some of the
information he gave me about the people. Their customs appear much the
same as those of the Sea Dayaks: he began, oddly enough, with their
funerals. When a man dies, they wrap him up in cloths and place him in
a kind of box on top of four upright poles, and leave him there with
some of his worldly goods--in the case of chiefs, a very large amount.
Their marriages are simple. When two young people take a fancy to each
other, their intercourse is unrestrained: should the girl prove with
child, a marriage takes place; their great anxiety for children makes
them take this precaution against sterility.
We pulled in the evening to visit the fine upas-tree growing at the end
of the reach below the town. We landed at a Mahomedan burying-place,
and there met a Malay, who warned us not to approach this deadly
tree, but we smilingly thanked him and continued our course, forcing
our way through the tangled bushes at its base: it has a noble stem,
some five-and-thirty feet without a branch, and eighteen feet in
circumference; the colour of its bark is a light brown. The tree is a
very handsome and spreading one, and its bright rich green contrasted
well with the dark foliage beyond.
[Illustration:
T. Picken lith. Day & Son, Lith^{rs}. to the Queen.
Published by Smith Elder & C^o. 65, Cornhill, London.
THE CITY OF BRUNEI--SUNSET.]
Leaving the burying-ground, we fell down the river a hundred yards, and
then walked up a path leading over the hills, where a dip rendered
the passage easier. Arriving at the summit, we saw the town spread
out, map-like, before us, and it is one of the loveliest scenes I have
ever witnessed. The sun was just setting amid a broken heap of clouds,
and threw its dimmed rays on everything around. The river, slowly
meandering through the town and country, flowed past our feet, its
rippled waters faintly tinged with purple; while around, till hidden by
the now rapidly-approaching darkness, we could perceive a succession of
hills, gilded here and there, and generally clothed with trees to the
very summit; but, that the eye might not be wearied, many an eminence
was grass-covered. A cool breeze blew gently down the river, and was
pleasantly refreshing after the hot day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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