Through Central Borneo; an Account of Two Years' Travel in the Land of Head-Hunters Between the Years 1913 and 1917Lumholtz, Carl
History
Through Central Borneo; an Account of Two Years' Travel in the Land of Head-Hunters Between the Years 1913 and 1917
Lumholtz, Carl
Borneo -- Description and travel; Ethnology -- Borneo; Natural history -- Borneo
A glorious morning! The river, running high and of a dirty yellowish-green
colour, carried us swiftly with the current in the cool atmosphere of the
morning mist which the sun gradually cleared away. Repeatedly, though for
a few moments only, an enchanting fragrance was wafted to me from large,
funnel-shaped, fleshy white flowers with violet longitudinal stripes that
covered one of the numerous varieties of trees on our way. Many blossoms
had fallen into the water and floated on the current with us. It was a
pleasure to have again real Dayak paddlers, which I had not had since my
travels in the Bultmgan.
We dashed through the tall waves of many smaller rapids and suddenly,
while I was having breakfast, which to save time is always taken in the
prahus, I found myself near what appeared to be a rapidly declining kiham.
A fathomless abyss seemed yawning before us, although the approach thereto
was enticing, as the rushing waters turned into white foam and played in
the strong sunlight. We passed a timid prahu which was waiting at one side
of the course, but had I desired to do so there was no time to stop my
prahu. That might have meant calamity, for we were already within a few
seconds of the rushing, turbulent waters. So down we went, with a
delightful sensation of dancing, falling water, strong sunlight, and the
indescribable freshness and swiftness of it all. The Penihing at the bow
looked back at me and nodded with a satisfied expression on his
countenance, as if to say: "That was well done."
There were kihams after kihams to be passed; at one place where the rapids
were long, from twelve to eighteen men helped to direct each prahu with
rattan ropes, preventing it from going where the water was deep and the
waves ran high. But my men, who appeared to be skilful, evidently decided
not to depend on the rattan but steered deliberately out into the deep
water; the prahu began to move swiftly, and, tossed by the big waves, the
large tins and boxes were shaken about and threatened to fall overboard.
The bundle of one of the Dayaks actually dropped into the water. There
were only four men in the prahu, and the one at the bow, on whom so much
depends for safety, seeing that it was his bundle, immediately jumped
after it, leaving the boat to its fate. Luckily there was no reason for
the others to do likewise, and I escaped with drenched legs and a wet
kodak.
New kihams soon compelled us to take out half the load and make double
trips, which proved slow and tedious work. I sat on the rocks waiting, and
ate luncheon, which consisted of one small tin of macquerel in oil, put up
in France, very convenient for travelling. In front of me on the other
side of the river a lonely Malay was working eagerly, trying to float a
big bundle of rattan which had lodged in the midst of a waterfall against
a large stone, and which finally he succeeded in loosening. Suddenly it
floated, and as suddenly he leaped upon it, riding astride it down the
foaming waters.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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