CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER V.Summary of information obtained during this visit to Borneo.—Geographical and topographical observations.—Produce.—Various Dyak tribes.—Natural history.—Language.—Origin of Races.—Sail from Singapore.—Celebes.—Face of the country.—Waterfall.Mr. Brookeʼs journal continues his observations on the people and country he had just left; and, I need hardly say, communicates much of novelty and interest in his own plain and simple manner.“Oct. 5th.—Just laying our course. I may here briefly recapitulate the information acquired during the last two months and a half. Beginning from Tanjong Api, we have delineated the coast as far as Tanjong Balaban, fixing the principal points by chronometer and observation, and filling in the details by personal inspection. The distance, on a line drawn along the headlands, may be from 120 to 130 miles, the entire coast being previously quite unknown.“Within this space are many fine rivers, and some navigable for vessels of considerable burden, and well calculated for the extension of commerce, such as Sarāwak, Morotaba, and Sadung. The others, equally fine streams, are barred, but offer admirable means for an easy inland communication; these are the Quop, Boyur, Riam, Samarahan, Lundu, Samatan, &c. In our excursions into the interior of the island, most of these streams have been ascended to a distance of 25 or 30 miles, and some further. We traced the Samarahan river for 70 or80 miles from its mouth, and passed through portions of the intermediate streams of the Riam, Quop, and Boyur. The Morotaba, which is but another mouth of the Sarāwak, we passed through several times from the sea to its junction with that river. The Lundu and Sadung rivers were likewise ascended to the distance of near 30 miles; and plans of all these rivers have been taken as accurately as circumstances would permit, by observations of the latitude and longitude, and various points, and an eye-sketch of the distance of each reach and the compass bearing. The entrances into the Sarāwak and Morotaba were carefully examined, and the former accurately laid down. The productions of the country attracted our attention, and the articles best fitted for commerce have been already enumerated. Among these are, first, minerals; say gold, tin, probably copper, antimony-ore, and fine white clay for pipes. Secondly, woods of the finest descriptions, for ship-building, and other purposes; besides aloes wood (lignum aloes), and arang or ebony wood, canes, and ratans. To these may be added, among vegetable productions, sago, compon, rice, &c., &c.“The wild nutmeg was found growing on the islands of Sadung and Sumpudin in abundance and perfection, proving that by cultivation it might be brought into the market as cheap, and probably as good, as those produced in the Moluccas. We have various specimens of ores and stones, which, on being tested, may prove valuable commodities. Among these is decomposed granite rock (I believe), containing minute particles of what we conceive to be gold, and an ore believed to be copper. Besides the articles above enumerated, are birdsʼ nests and beesʼ wax in considerable quantities, and others not worth detailing here. We have been able, during our residence with the Borneons, to continue on the most friendly terms with them, and to open a field of research for our subsequent inquiries in the proper season. My attention has been anxiously directed to acquiring a knowledge of the Dyak tribes; and for this purpose I passed ten days among them at Lundu. I have made such vocabularies of the language of the Sibnowans and Lundus as my means allowed; and a further addition of theirvarious dialects will furnish, I conceive, matters of high importance to those interested in tracing the emigration of nations. I may here briefly notice, that the nation of Kayans, included under the common denomination of Dyak, are a tattooed race, who use the sumpitan, or blow-pipe; while the other Dyak tribes (which are very numerous) are not tattooed, and never use the blow-pipe.“The arms and instruments of many tribes are in my possession; and among the Sibnowans I had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with their habits, customs, and modes of living.“The appellation of the Dyak tribes near the coast is usually the same as the rivers from which they originally came. The Dyaks of Sibnow come from the river of that name, just beyond Balaban Point, though large communities are dispersed on the Lundu and the Sadung. The same may be said of the Sarebus tribe (the most predaceous and wild on the coast), which has powerful branches of the original stock on the Skarran river. Beyond Point Balaban is a bay—between that point and Point Samaludum; the first river is the Sibnow; the next the Balonlupon, which branches into the rivers of Sakarran and Linga; passing Tanjong Samaludum you come to the two islands of Talison; and between it and the next point, or Banting Marron, lies the Sarebus river. Between Banting Marron and Tanjong Siri are the Kaleka river, a high mountain called Maban, and then Rejong, the chief river of the Kayans. I may here likewise correct some of the statements and names usually current in England. The Idaan, represented as a Dyak tribe, are a hill people, and probably not Dyaks; and the name Marat is applied by the natives of Borneo to the various wild tribes, Dyaks and others, without any specific meaning.“In natural history the expedition has done as much as was in its power, by forming collections of birds, animals, and reptiles; but these collections are as small as our means. Specimens of woods and seeds have been preserved; but the season was not the proper one for flowers, as very few indeed were seen. The specimen of the hand of the mĭas pappan and the head of an adultmĭas rombĭ will, I believe, go far to establish the existence of an animal similar to the Pongo of the Count Buffon. I have little doubt that I shall be able in the ensuing season to establish the fact, or set it at rest forever; though I confess myself greatly inclined to think that the former will be the case. I here leave the coast with an excellent prospect for the coming year; and I would not now have quitted it so soon, but for the want of provisions, added to which, the change of the monsoon, bringing squally and dark weather, greatly interferes with our further progress in surveying.“Nov. 22d, 1839.—The Malayan language has been compared to thelingua francaof Europe. They are both, indeed, used by various nations in their commercial transactions; but, beyond this, nothing can be more unjust or absurd than the comparison. Thelingua francais a jargon compounded at random, devoid of grammar or elegance; the Malayan, on the contrary, is musical, simple in its construction, and well calculated for the expression of poetry. It boasts many dialects, like the Italian, of superior softness, and, like the Italian, it is derived from many sources, refining all to the most liquid sounds by the addition of a final vowel. I fully concur with Mr. Marsden in his opinion that the Malayan tongue, though derived from the Sanscrit, the Arabic, the Hindoostani, &c., &c., is based on the language which he calls the Polynesian; a language which may be considered original (as far as we know), and which embraces so vast an extent of geographical surface. The proof of this rests mainly on the fact that the simple wants of man, as well as the most striking features of nature, are expressed in the Polynesian; while the secondary class of ideas is derived from the Sanscrit, or some other language, and usually grafted in a felicitous manner on the original stem. By an original language, I must be understood, however, to mean only a language which can not be derived from any other known tongue. I seek not to trace the language of Noah, or to raise a theory which shall derive the finished and grammatical Sanscrit, the pure and elegant Greek, from some barbarous stock, whether Celtic or Teutonic. Such inquiries are fitted for those with leisure and patience to undertake a hopelesstask, and learning enough to achieve better things. When we look for the origin of languages we are lost, for those existing afford us no help. They present some affinities, as might be expected; but their discrepancies are irreconcilable; and, amid many equally good claims, who shall be able to demonstrate the only one which is right? Supposing even that all languages agreed as to primary ideas, it would be difficult to determine the original; but when this primary class of ideas is expressed by sounds entirely and totally different, the task becomes utterly hopeless, and the labor as vain as that of Sisyphus. Indeed, it would be very difficult to show how languages, derived from one stock, could possibly differ so far in their expression of the simplest ideas and wants as not to be mutually traceable: and truly, until this is done (which I conceive impossible), I am content to rest in the belief that there are more original languagesthan one—a conclusion agreeable to common sense, and consonant with the early history of the Hebrews.“To trace the original identity of distant races, and their early migrations, through the affinity of language, is indeed a limited task compared with the other, but one both feasible and useful. To further this labor, the smallest additional information is valuable; and the dialects of the rude people inhabiting the interior of the islands of Borneo and Celebes would be highly important. Previously, however, to instituting such a comparison, as far as in my power, I propose taking a brief glance at the different races whose languages may be included under the common name of Polynesian.“In the first place, the Malayan. Issuing from the interior of Sumatra, there is reason to conjecture, and even facts to prove, that originally the dialect of Menangkābau resembled the other dialects of its birthplace. The gradual extension of a warlike race gave a polish to the language; additional wants, increasing luxury, extended knowledge, and contact with the merchants of many Eastern nations, all combined to produce the Malayan in its present form. But, during the progress of this change, the radical Polynesian stock remained; and we find, consequently, that the words necessary to mankind in their earliest stage bear a striking and convincingresemblance to the dialects of Rejong and Lampung, in Sumatra. Subsequent improvements were largely adopted from the Sanscrit and the Arabic; but the fact of the primary ideas being expressed in the Polynesian must preclude the conclusion of either of these being the source whence the Malayan is derived, its improvement and extension being alone referable to them. Marsden positively states his inability to trace the Polynesian to any other Eastern language; and, at the same time, he has demonstrated, in what he considers a convincing manner, the identity of this language from Madagascar and the islands of the Pacific to the Philippines and Sumatra.“It may here be incidentally remarked, that while so many authors are endeavoring to prove that the Asiatic archipelago was peopled from the Western Continent,1they overlook the fact of the radical difference of language. Unless the roots of the language can be traced either to India, Cambodia, or other parts, it must follow, as a matter of course, that the islands were peopled at a time previous to the introduction of the language now spoken on the Continent; else how are we to account for the simple dialects of a rude people being radically distinct from the language of the mother country? If the Dyaks of Borneo and the Arafuras of Celebes and New Guinea speak a dialect of the Polynesian, it will go far to prove an original people as well as an original language, that is, as original as the Celtic, the Teutonic, the South American; original because not derived from any known source.“These brief remarks on the Malayan will, I believe, apply to the language of the Island of Java, which, equally improved and enlarged by the addition of Sanscrit and Arabic words, and differently modified, retains, nevertheless, its radical Polynesian stock and its distinct written character, as do likewise the dialects of the islands of Bally and Lombock. The districts of Rejong, Lampung, &c., in Sumatra, retain the original language in a much higher degree, possess distinctive written characters, and have little intermixture of Sanscrit orArabic. Celebes, or Bugis-land, with a distinct language and character, will probably be found to follow the same rule; and the Philippines, including Mindanao, according to Marsden, possess the same language, though altered and modified into the Tagala tongue.“Madagascar, so far removed, exhibits in its language a dialect of Tagala, or, strictly speaking, of Polynesian; and the South Sea islands present striking and almost convincing proofs of the same origin.“The inquiry ought to be pushed to the languages of the Mexicans and Peruvians of South America; and, as far as our knowledge permits, their identity established or disproved; for the language of this by-gone people would go far toward tracing the course of emigration, it being evident that a strong argument would be raised in favor of the migration proceeding from east to west, if the language is common to South America and Sumatra, and not traceable to any country of the Continent of India.“It remains, however, to inquire into the language of the interior tribes of Borneo, Celebes, and New Guinea; and, on such inquiry, should they be found to possess the same primary roots as the rest, I believe the conclusion must ultimately be arrived at of the existence of a Polynesian language common to this vast geographical extent, and distinct from the languages of Asia. In tracing this identity, we can only, of course, find it in few instances in the cultivated Javanese and Malayan languages. Discrepancies must naturally be great from the intermixture, from early recorded times, of all languages in the archipelago; but, nevertheless, if the radical affinities be striking, they will be conclusive in establishing the original identity of all the races before mentioned; for, without this original identity, how can we account for these affinities of language? It may, indeed, be urged that this language has gradually crept into the dialects of Java and Menangkābau. But, in the first place, the affinities will be found in the very roots of the language—in the expressions for the primary and necessary ideas, which seldom alter in any people; in the next, there is a high degree of improbability in supposing a rude dialect to supplant a substantial portion ofa more polished one; and, thirdly, we must not overlook the collateral evidence of the similarity of conformation pervading the entire race from Polynesia to the archipelago—distinct alike from the Caucasian and the Mongolian.“In tracing the identity of this language, we may reckon the dialects of the Dyaks of Borneo, &c., as the lowest step of the ladder; those of the Pacific islands next; and so through the dialects of Sumatra and Tagala, up to the Malayan and Javanese. For this purpose, a comparative view of all must be attained; and Eastern scholars should point out, when possible, the words taken from Sanscrit and other languages. For my own part, these remarks are made as a sketch to be enlarged on, and to assist in obtaining the vocabularies of the Dyaks and Arafuras.“Dec. 6th.—In looking over Marsdenʼs admirable Introduction to his Malayan Grammar, I find I have taken many of his views in the foregoing remarks; but I consider that his opinions may be pushed to conclusions more extended than he has ventured upon. Having described the ‘exterior circumstance’ of the Malayan language, he proceeds to point out those more original languages from whence we may presume it to be derived.“‘The words of which it consists may be divided into three classes, and that two of these are Hindoo and Arabic has been generally admitted. The doubts that have arisen respect only the third, or that original and essential part which, to the Malayan, stands in the same relation as the Saxon to the English, and which I have asserted to be one of the numerous dialects of the widely-extended language found to prevail, with strong features of similarity, throughout the archipelago on the hither side of New Guinea, and, with a less marked resemblance, among the islands of the Pacific Ocean.... To show the general identity, or radical connection of its dialects, and, at the same time, their individual differences, I beg leave to refer the reader2to the tables annexed to a paper on the subject which I presented, so long ago as the year 1780, to the Society of Antiquaries,and isprintedin vol. vi. of theArchæologia; also, a table of comparative numerals, in the appendix to vol. iii. of Captain Cookʼs last voyage; and likewise to the chart of ten numerals, in two hundred languages, by the Rev. R. Patrick, recently published in ValpyʼsClassical, Biblical and Oriental Journal.’“Again, Marsden states:“‘But whatever pretensions any particular spot may have to precedence in this respect, the so wide dissemination of a language common to all bespeaks a high degree of antiquity, and gives a claim to originality, as far as we can venture to apply that term, which signifies no more than the state beyond which we have not the means, either historically or by fair inference, of tracing the origin. In this restricted sense it is that we are justified in considering the main portion of the Malayan as original, or indigenous,its affinity to any Continental tongue not having yet been shown; and least of all can we suppose it connected with the monosyllabic, or Indo-Chinese, with which it has been classed.’“When we find an original language bearing no traces of being derived from any Continental tongue, we must conclude the people likewise to be original, in the restricted sense, or to have emigrated with their language from some source hitherto unknown. The Sanscrit and Arabic additions to the original stock are well marked, though the period of the introduction of the former is hidden in darkness. It may be inferred, however, that it came with the Hindoo religion, the remains of which are yet in existence. It is evident that the question resolves itself into two distinct branches: first, the original language, its extent, the coincidence of its dialects, its source, &c.; secondly, its discrepancies, whence arising, &c.; together with the inquiry into the probable time and mode of the introduction of the Sanscrit. With the latter of these inquiries I have nothing to do; on the former subject I may collect some valuable information by adding the dialects of the savage tribes in the interior of Borneo and Celebes.“The alphabets of the island of Java, of the Tagala, and the Bugis of Celebes, are given by Corneille, Le Brun, Thevenot, and Forrest.”Of Mr. Brookeʼs sojourn at Singapore it is unnecessary to speak; and I accordingly resume my extracts with his ensuing voyage from that port, and again for the Indian archipelago, but contenting myself, for reasons which need not be entered into at length, with only that portion of his excursion to Celebes and among the Bugis which particularly bears upon his Borneon sequel.“Dec. 7th, 1839.—Off Great Solombo. Never was there a more tedious passage than ours has been from Singapore. Sailing from that place on the 20th of November, we have encountered a succession of calms and light winds—creeping some days a few miles, and often lying becalmed for forty-eight hours without a breath to fill the sails. Passing through the straits of Rhio and Banca, and watering at the islands of Nanka, we stood thence for Pulo Babian, or Lubeck, lay a night becalmed close to the Arrogants Shoal, of which, however, we saw nothing, owing, probably, to the smoothness of the water. The depths are greater than laid down on Horsburghʼs chart, varying from thirty-six to thirty-eight fathoms. A calm now keeps us off the greater Solombo, which it is my intention to visit when in my power.“8th.—Drifted past Solombo in the calm, and, reluctant to return, I continued on my voyage with a light breeze from the eastward. This island is well laid down: from the sea we made its longitude 113° 31′; Horsburgh gives it 113° 28′, which, considering that both observations were made afloat, is a near enough approximation. The land is low, with a single hill, showing round from the westward, flat or wedge-shaped from the eastward. The smaller Solombo is low: both wooded.“10th.—In sight of Laurots islands.“11th.—In the evening stood within four miles of the southern island of Laurots. These islands are high and steep, covered with wood, and uninhabited. The easternmost island seems, by bearings, badly laid down, being not far enough to the southward and eastward. The southern island is called by the Bugis, Mata Siri; the eastern, Kadapangan; the northern one, Kalambow. A few rocks and islets lay off them; water deep, and apparently clear of all danger.“15th.—Turatte Bay. After experiencing continued calms and light winds, and falling short of water, we at length reached this bay, and anchored in 7½ fathoms. The first impression of Celebes is highly favorable. The mountains present a bold outline, and rise in confused masses, until crowned by what is commonly calledBonthian Hill. The sides of the mountains slope gradually to the sea, and present an inviting and diversified aspect of wood and cleared land. I dispatched a boat for water to a small village; and the crew were well received by the natives, after they became assured that they were not pirates.“The outline of this bay, in Norieʼs chart, is not badly laid down; but on either side there is great room for improvement and survey. Turatte Bay may be fairly so called, as the district (ornegri) generally bears that name. The larboard point of Turatte Bay (approaching) is called Malăsaro, which comes next to Tanjong Layken in the charts. The starboard point is Tanjong Uju Loke, and from Uju Loke the land runs low to the point of Galumpang, the entrance of a river marked in the charts. From Uju Loke (named Bolo Bolo in Norieʼs chart) the coast-line runs for 12 or 15 miles to Bolo Bolo, which space is entirely omitted. Bolo Bolo forms the entrance of Bonthian Bay.“16th.—Bonthian Bay. Called Banthi by the natives: is in lat. 5° 37′S.; long. 119° 33′E.“The bay is pretty well laid down by Dalrymple. The small Dutch fort, or intrenchment, stands rather on the eastern bight of the bay, and is composed of a few huts, surrounded by a ditch and green bank. Two guns at each corner compose its strength, and the garrison consists of about thirty Dutchmen and a few Javanese soldiers. We were cordially and hospitably received by the officers, and, after a great deal of trouble and many excuses, here procured horses to carry us to the waterfall. Bonthian Hill is immediately over this place; a flat space of rice-ground, some miles in extent, only intervening. The hill (so called) may with more propriety be designated as a range of mountains, which here attain their utmost height and sink down gradually almost across the peninsula. The view is most attractive;the green and refreshing rice-grounds in the front and behind, the slopes of the mountain and its various peaks, verdant grass, wooded chasms, and all the inequalities which mark a mountain region. I am very anxious to mount to the summit; but so many difficulties are thrown in the way, that I almost despair—horses and guides are not to be procured. The Dutch say the natives are lazy: the natives say they dare not go without authority—either way we are the losers; but the officers certainly exert themselves in our favor. Coming into this bay, there is some difficulty in distinguishing the fort; but coming from the westward, its position may readily be known by steering for two lumps on the S.E. declivity of the mountain.“18th.—Got ashore by seven oʼclock to start for the waterfall; till nine we were detained by want of horses, but after much trouble the animals were procured, and off we started. Our party consisted of three doctors (him of the fortification, a German gentleman, Treacher, and Theylingen) and myself, with native guides. The road lay for a short way along the beach, then struck into the thicket, and we commenced a gradual ascent. The scenery was most striking and lovely; glades and glens, grassy knolls and slopes, with scattered trees, and the voice of a hidden river which reached our ears from a deep valley on the left hand. Proceeding thus for some distance, we at length plunged into the wood, and descending a short space, found ourselves by the sides of the stream below the waterfall. Here, breakfast being finished, we all stripped to our trowsers, entered the water, and advanced along the bed of the river to the fall. The banks on either hand, steep and woody, prevented any other mode of approach, and the stream, rushing down and falling over huge rocks, rendered the only available one any thing but easy. At times we were up to the arms, then crawling out and stealing with care over wet and slippery stones, now taking advantage of a few yards of dry ground, and ever and anon swimming a pool to shorten an unpleasant climb. In this manner we advanced about half a mile, when the fall became visible; thick trees and hanging creepers intervened; between and through the foliage we first saw the water glancingand shining in its descent. The effect was perfect. After some little further and more difficult progress, we stood beneath the fall, of about 150 feet sheer descent. The wind whirled in eddies, and carried the sleet over us, chilling our bodies, but unable to damp our admiration. The basin of the fall is part of a circle, with the outlet forming a funnel; bare cliffs, perpendicular on all sides, form the upper portion of the vale, and above and below is all the luxuriant vegetation of the East; trees, arched and interlaced, and throwing down long fantastic roots and creepers, shade the scene, and form one of the richest sylvan prospects I have ever beheld. The water, foaming and flashing, and then escaping amid huge gray stones on its troubled course—clear and transparent, expanding into tranquil pools, with the flickering sunshine through the dense foliage—all combine to form at scene such as Tasso has described.3“Inferior in body of water to many falls in Switzerland, it is superior to any in sylvan beauty; its deep seclusion, its undisturbed solitude, and the difficulty of access, combine to heighten its charms to the imagination. Our descent was like our upward progress. Having again dressed ourselves, we rested for a time, and then started for Bonthian—wearing away the rest of the day shooting amid the hills. Theylingen and myself procured many specimens, and returned laden with our spoil, and charmed with our dayʼs excursion. The waterfall is called Sapo, from the neighboring green peak of that name. The height of our resting-place (not the highest point of the dayʼs ascent) was 750.5 feet, by Newmanʼs two barometers; yet this is the bottom of the mountain on its western slope. The officers dined with us; they are very polite and kind; and we retired early to rest, all the better for our excursion.“19th.—At 6 A.M. went with the Dutch officers shooting, and reached the same stream which forms the waterfall. The scenery delightful; water cool, and pleasant for bathing, a luxury I enjoyed in high perfection. Aboard again to a late breakfast.”1Western as regards Polynesia.2Also, vol. iv. of theBengal Asiatic Researches.3Canto xv., stanza 55, 56.CHAPTER VI.Dain Matara, the Bugis,—Excursions in Celebes.—Dispute with the Rajahʼs son-in-law.—Baboon shot.—Appearance of the country.—Visit the Resident.—Barometrical observations.—The Bugis.—Geography.—Coral reefs.—Visit the Rana of Lamatte.—Population and products of the country.“I may here, indulge in a brief episode to introduce my Bugis companion, Dain Matara,—which properly I should have done long since,—a man well born, and, for his country, affluent and educated: he offered at Singapore, to accompany me on this expedition, refusing all pay or remuneration, and stating that the good name to be acquired, and the pleasure of seeing different places, would recompense, him. At first, I must own this disinterestedness rendered me suspicious; but conceiving that the greatest utility might accrue from his assistance, I agreed to take him with his servant. Our long passage seemed to make us well acquainted, and, I believe, raised a mutual confidence. Dain, cheerful, good-tempered, and intelligent, gained daily on my esteem; and, by the time we reached Bonthian, I was rejoiced that he accompanied me.“On this day we succeeded in procuring horses and guides for thehill, as it is called.“20th.—By 8 A.M. our preparations were complete, and we mounted our horses; a motley group we formed, composed of Treacher, Theylingen, and myself, two seamen (Spence and Balls), Dain Matara, a son-in-law of the Bonthian Rajah, and six footmen. Provisions for four days were on one of the horses, and a goodly stock of fowling-pieces, beside my mountain barometer. The plain was soon cleared; and three hoursʼ ride by a good horse-path brought us to the village of Senua, consisting of a dozen houses. We found the inhabitants hospitable, and took refuge from a heavy squall of wind and rain in the best house the place afforded. During the rain the thermometer sunk to 76°, but rose directly afterward. At half-past one the rain cleared away, but we were detained until three by the Bugis getting their dinner. During this time I strayed along the sparklingstream which runs by the village, and after enjoying a bathe, called to horse, in order to proceed. Great was my surprise, however, to be told by the rajahʼs son-in-law that he supposed we were going back. A discussion arose,—he declaring there was no road for the horses, and that we could not go farther; while I insisted, if he would not advance, I should continue my journey on foot. After much time had been lost, our guide set off slowly and reluctantly, and we proceeded for two or three miles, when, finding our head turned to the southward, and the road descending, I again called a halt, and was once more told it was not possible to mount farther. A scheme had been formed to lead us round about, and take us gradually down, until too late to mount again. A long parley ensued; both parties seemed resolute; and it finished by our unloading the baggage-horse, and making a small parcel of necessaries to carry on foot. Our guide, however, never intended matters to go so far, and we finished at last by taking half the horses, and allowing him (the rajahʼs son-in-law) to descend with the rest. This being done, we had to retrace our road nearly to Senua; and a little before sunset our party crossed an awkward stream, and struck into the path up the mountains.“A short walk brought us to Lengan Lengang about dusk, where we put up for the night. For the first time, this day I saw the cockatoo in his wild state; I was within easy shot of two of them, but the stream lay between us, and I felt some compunction at shooting these favorite birds.“Lourikeets were in great plenty, and many varieties of pigeons and doves, beside other birds. Near Lengan Lengang we encountered a community of dusky baboons, many of them very large and powerful: after a hard scramble I got within shot of them; on my firing the first barrel, the young ones and females made off, but the leaders of the band disdained to retreat, and, with threatening gestures and grimaces, covered the retreat of their party. The consequence was, I sacrificed one of these heroes, of a large size: he fell from the branch on which he was seated into a deep valley, and his fall completed the rout of the rest. Spence, in the meantime, having arrived, I dispatched him to secure the prize; but at the bottom of the valley the baboons again showed themselves, and manifested every inclination to fall on him; another barrel put them to flight, and between us we dragged the fallen hero to the horses.“The village of Lengan Lengang consists of about a dozen houses, is situated in a nook of the hills, and surrounded by cocoanut-trees. We were accommodated in the principal house, and treated with every hospitality. The people of the hills are poor, though their land is fertile, and produces abundance of rice and Indian corn. Theft is said to be common, especially of horses, and the care of the horses belonging to travelers devolves on the villagers; for, in case a horse is stolen, a fine is imposed on the population in general. To prevent this misfortune, our hosts kept playing, as long as we could bear it, on an instrument like a clarinet; but at twelve oʼclock, after trying in vain to sleep, we were obliged to stop the noise and risk the horses.“This instrument is about three feet long, with five or six holes, and a flat mouthpiece on the cane-tube; the sound is musical when gently breathed into, but in their usual mode of playing, it emits frightful shrieks. During the night the thermometer sunk to 69°, and we were glad of our blankets.“21st.—Rose between five and six. Took some barometrical observations, and at half-past six continued our upward way. As far as Lengan Lengang the country presents beautiful woodland and mountain scenery, with luxuriant vegetation, thickly wooded valleys, and sparkling streams. The flats and valleys are occupied by rice-grounds, and the pasturage is of the very finest description for all sorts of cattle: the grass short and rich. Lengan Lengang is the last point where the cocoanut or other palms is seen; but there it grows remarkably well, and attains a great height. Above this point the wood, generally speaking, becomes smaller, and the vegetation more coarse, the hills being covered with a rank high grass, and ferns, similar to those in England. Three hoursʼ slow traveling brought us to the village of Lokar, situated at the foot of the peak of that name. I mounted, while breakfast waspreparing, nearly to the top, and up to the belt of thick wood which surrounds the last 100 or 150 feet. Observations were repeated here, showing a great fall of the mercury, and afterward taken at the village. Lokar consists of a few scattered huts, situated amid gardens of fruit and vegetables: the mango, the guava, the jack, and the plantain, with cabbages and Indian corn, compose the stock of the inhabitants; the latter constitutes their principal food, and is granaried for use in large quantities, not only in the house, but on frameworks of bamboo without, on which it is thickly hung in rows, with the head downward, to protect it from the weather. The highest summit, called Lumpu Balong, was visible when we first arrived, some miles in advance: at breakfast-time the clouds entirely covered it, and rolled down upon Lokar in heavy rain, driving us into a miserable hut for shelter.“During the rain the thermometer fell to 70°. At 3 P.M. started for some huts we saw at the foot of Lumpu Balong, having first sent our horses back to Lengan Lengang, being assured their farther progress was impracticable. When, however, our guide from Lokar understood our intention of reaching Lumpu Balong, he objected to proceed, on the plea that the village in advance was inhabited by people from Turatte. We managed to coax him on, and, after two and a half hoursʼ walk, reached Parontalas. The country, ascending gradually, becomes more and more wild; the wood stunted; and the streams, finding their way through masses of rock, leave strong traces of their occasional violence. Parontalas stands on the edge of the forest which skirts Lumpu Balong, from which it has not long been retrieved. It consists of a few scattered huts, far apart. Potatoes, tobacco, and coffee are grown here, the former in great abundance. Like the rest of the people, their food consists of Indian corn; and, as in the other villages, they breed horses. Our host of Parontalas was very polite, and gave us some fowls and the accommodation of his house; the latter, indeed, was needful, for we were all badly provided with covering, and the mountain air was raw and cold. To our request for guides to ascend the mountainhe replied, that it was necessary to consult the head man of the district, who lived some little distance off. In the interim we made ourselves very happy, determined to ascend with or without a guide or guides. We lay down at nine, in order to be ready for the morningʼs work, the thermometer standing at 59° in the house.“22d.—At five, when we rose, the thermometer stood at 56° in the air. The head man had arrived, and willingly gave us guides, warning us only of the difficulty of the ascent. Nothing could exceed the kindness and attention of this simple old man. He remembered the time the English had the country, and spoke of his peopleʼs respect for our nation, and their regret that we had left the country. At 6 A.M. we started, and, after walking about a mile, plunged into the belt of forest which environs Lumpu Balong. From six till half-past two, we were alternately ascending and descending, scrambling over rocks or fallen timber, or cutting a path through the most tangled thicket that ever tore the wayfarer. To add to our difficulty, during the latter half of the ascent, we could procure no water, which caused us considerable suffering. At length, however, we stood at the summit of Lumpu Balong, and looked, on either side, over a vast sea of fleecy clouds which rolled beneath. The top is a narrow ridge, covered with stunted trees and luxuriant moss; and a second peak to the westward, of rather less elevation, is separated from it by a declivity. I climbed to the top of a tree to look along the mountain, and make certain that we were at the highest point; and having convinced myself of this, I proceeded with the barometric observations, which were concluded by 3 P.M.; for it was highly necessary to get down before night overtook us in the dreary and inhospitable forest. Our thirst, too, was tormenting, and increased by hearing the fall of a torrent deep in the valley to the northward.“As far as I could observe, the northern face of the mountain was perpendicular, and the ascent on that side would have been attended with greater difficulty than from the point we chose. Our way down was easier,and the descent was made as expeditiously as the nature of the ground would allow. Having fairly worn our shoes off our feet, we were pierced by brambles and thorns in a cruel manner. Our guide, in going down, discovered a tree with a bee-hive in it containing great store of honey. The Bugis instantly attacked the tree, on seeing which my first impression was, that it would be prudent to retreat to a distance; but their composure induced me to remain; and, to my surprise, when the tree was laid open, the honey was taken out in large quantities, and the bees brushed off the comb without offering to sting. Though flying round about us, and on the hands of all the people, they were quite innocent of harm; and I conclude, therefore, they were different from the common honey-bee. The honey was excellent, and refreshed us for a few minutes, but ultimately only added to our thirst. At length, about five, we reached a stream of water, and quenched our thirst with draughts of the coolest and most limpid mountain stream. The Bugis, though, like ourselves, they had been, without any water from nine oʼclock in the morning till five in the evening, refused to drink, alleging that it was highly injurious after eating honey! Glad were we, just at dark, to get clear of the forest; and a short walk farther brought us to our temporary dwelling. We were much knocked up, and very much torn with the thorns. A brief dinner and a delicious cigar, and we lay down to sleep—not even incommoded by the cold, which kept us awake the last night.“23d.—Having, through mistake, forgotten to bring up any money, I had no means of repaying the obligations received from these simple hill-people exceptby promises. My old friend ordered the guide of yesterday to accompany us to the plains, to receive his own payment, and to bring some things, for others, up there. At ten we hobbled forth, very foot-sore, and lacking proper covering for our feet. The prospect of four or five hoursʼ walk to Lengan Lengang was very unpleasant; and in proportion to our expected pain was our gratification on meetingallour horses within three miles of Parontalas—allthe horses, which all the men swore could not, by any possibility, ascend, were there;and though without saddles and bridles, or the Bugis, we were too glad to mount. We went down by another road. Four hours brought us to Lengan Lengang, where we rested for two hours, and, remounting, reached Bonthian at about seven oʼclock in the evening. Thus concluded this interesting excursion into a hill-region, where we attained the summit of Lumpu Balong, never before reached by European. The Dutch officers informed me that three successive residents of Bonthian had attempted it and failed.“Before I conclude, I may take a brief survey of the country. The hills are generally rounded or flat at top, and not offering any rugged or broken peaks. The scenery about Senua and Lengan Lengang is the perfection of woodland, with the picturesque characteristics of a mountain region; the climate admirably suited, thence to the summit, for Europeans, and capable of producing most European and tropical plants to perfection. Coffee plantations on these hills might be undertaken with certainty of success, and there is much in the character of the natives which would facilitate the operation. To the westward of Lokar, and somewhat lower, is a fine extensive plain, which we just skirted coming down; it was cultivated in every part, apparently with rice. The vegetable productions of the hills I have briefly mentioned; but I may add that the wild raspberry was found, and that wild guavas grow in the greatest abundance, as well as oranges and grapes.“The animal kingdom, of course, we had no time to examine; but the babi rupa is said to be found in the higher regions; and in the forest, toward the summit of Lumpu Balong, we saw the dung of wild cattle, which, I am told, are a species of urus. The birds we saw were, paroquets of two sorts, viz., the lourikeet and a small green paroquet; a large green pigeon, specimens of which we got; the cream-colored pigeon of Borneo, beside many others.“The geological formation of the region I must leave to others. I brought down some specimens of the rocks and loose stones, which are, I believe, pummice; if so, I presume the formation volcanic, similar to Java.“24th.—Called on the resident, and saw the rajah.“25th.—Christmas, with his jolly nose and icy hands. Here it is hot enough! Were I to live in this country, I should retire for the season up in the mountains. Dined with the Resident of Bonthian; by no means surprised that he and his congeners had failed in their attempt to climb the mountain: the resident is a native! In the evening, celebrated the day with all sorts of sports.“26th.—Mid-day, quitted Bonthian, and ran to Boele Comba or Compa.“27th.—I have little to say of Boele Comba. It is situated in the bight of the bay, eastward of Bonthian. There appears to be much, confusion an Horsburghʼs Directory about the latitude and longitude, and the hill called after the place. This hill is the last of the mountain-range, somewhat detached, covered with wood, of moderate elevation, and peaked. From our anchorage, two miles from the fort, it bore N.N.W. The fort is similar to the one at Bonthian, the country pretty, and nearly level. The Bonthian mountains (i. e.Lumpu Balong and the range) show steep and well in the background. Game abounds, by report. Europeans are subject to complaints of the eyes, and occasionally to fever. Any vessel running in should be very careful, for the charts are defective, and Boele Comba reef is said to project farther to the westward of the fort than laid down.“I here subjoin a list of our barometric observations, the upper barometer reduced to the rate of the lower and standard one:—Senua, 20th December, 1839.Bar.A.D.1.30.05486873h15mP.M.2.28.3857980Lengan Lengang, 21st December.Bar.A. D.1.30.1197978.56h30mA.M.2.27.9887069.56h0m”Lokar Peak, 21st December, 100 feet below summit.Bar.A.D.1.30.095909010h30mA.M.2.25.9757979Hill on the way to Lumpu Balong, 22d December.Bar.A.D.1.30.1449090Mean between 8hand noon.2.23.612 ...6665.510h40mA.M.Lumpu Balong Peak, 22d December.Bar.A.D.1.30.14689.590.52h0mP.M.2.23.7186463.52h30m”28th.—Leaving Boele Comba after breakfast, we shaped our course for Point Berak.“With the richest country, the natives of these places are poor, and they bear no good-will to their rulers. It is likewise certain that few active measures are resorted to for forwarding the development of the native character and local resources. The resident is a Macassar-born native, and this fact alone speaks volumes for the mode and manner of government. The people of the country I found a kind and simple race; and though they are accused of pride and laziness by their masters, I could not, circumstances taken into consideration, discover any trace, of the latter vice, and the former I can readily forgive them. That the Bugis are not an indolent race is well proved by their whole conduct, wherever circumstances offer any inducement to exertion. Even here, the cleared country and the neat cultivation prove them far otherwise; and traces are visible everywhere on the mountains of their having been more highly cultivated than at present. Coffee plantations once flourished, and being destroyed during a war, years ago, have never been renewed. Inclosures and partition walls in decay are very frequent, marking the former boundary of cultivation. That they are independent enough to be proud, I honor them for! The officers allowed they were courageous, and one designated them as ‘fier comme un Espagnol;’ and, on the whole, no doubt exists in my mind that they are people easily to be roused to exertion, either agricultural or commercial; their sullen and repulsive manners toward their masters rather indicating a dislike to their sway, and the idleness complained of only proving that the profits of labor are lower than they ought to be.“Nothing so strongly marks the degradation of a race or nation as a cheerful acquiescence under a foreign rule. The more virtuous, the more civilized, the more educated a people, the more turbulent, indolent, and sullen, when reduced to a state of subjection; the fewer qualities will they have to please their masters, when foreign rule is oppressive, or looks solely to the advantage of the country of the conquerors, and not of the conquered. There is no race will willingly submit: the bayonet and the sword, the gallows and the whip, imprisonment and confiscation, must be constantly at work to keep them under.“Leaving Boele Comba, as I before said, we shaped our course for Tanjong Berak, passing between that point and the north island. The passage is excellent, clear of all danger, as far as we could see, with deep water. The rocks reported to exist by Horsburgh, and put down on Norieʼs chart, have no existence. The Bugis prahus always use this channel, and know them not; and the captain of a Dutch cruiser informed me that he had often run through the passage at night, and that it was clear of all danger or obstruction.“My own observation went to verify the fact, for every part of the passage appears deep and clear, and we passed over the spots where these rocks are marked. Approaching Tanjong Berak, there is a sandy beach, where a vessel may get anchorage in case the wind dies away. The tides in the channel are strong; here, and along the south coast, the ebb runs from the eastward, the flood from the west. Having cleared the channel, we hauled into the Bay of Boni, which, although running in a north and south direction, has some headlands extending to the eastward. There are two places marked on the chart, viz. Berak and Tĭero; but these, instead of being towns or villages, are names of districts; the first, reaching from Tanjong Berak, about 15 miles, till it joins Tĭero; Tĭero, extending from the northern confine of Berak to Tanjong Labu, 15 miles in all. To the northward and eastward is a high island called Balunrueh. From Tanjong Berak the water along the coast is very deep; no soundings with 50 fathoms. Toward evening we went into Tĭero Bay, a pretty secludedspot. The southern part of the bay is foul, having a reef visible at low water, The northern headland has a spit running from it, with 14 fathom half a mile (or little more) off. Within the bay there is no bottom with 50 fathom till near its northern extremity, where the water shoals suddenly. Running in, in a squall, we got into 3¼ fathom, where we anchored. This country belongs to the Dutch as far as Point Labu.“29th.—Calm all day. Sounded the bay: the southern point has a steep coral reef nearly a quarter of a mile off. The southern part of the bay is inclosed by a reef, part of which seems to me artificial, for the purpose of catching fish, and is shallow: outside the reef the water is deep dose to. The western shore is lined by a reef close to it, and the water is deep. The center part of the bay is very deep; and within 100 yards of where we lay we got no bottom at 17 fathoms. The next cast was 6, and the next 3 fathoms—hard clay bottom. A small river discharges itself, in the northern part, inside the anchorage: there is a considerable depth within, but the bar is shallow. The scenery on the river is beautiful; wild at first, and gradually becoming undulating and cultivated. Birds are plenty: cockatoos abound, of which I shot two. This part of the country possesses considerable geological interest: the hills round the bay are of slight elevation; and 80 or 100 feet from the sea level are large masses of coral rock, upheaved by some convulsion.“30th.—Under weigh. Brought up in 23 fathoms, amid the coral shoals.“31st.—Visited the island of Balunrueh for sights.“Tanjong Labu is bluff and bold, and of moderate elevation. The land from thence trends away westward, forming a long bay, which, for distinction, may be called Labu Bay, at the N.W. part of which is the town of Songĭ, the principal place about here. Between Labu and Songĭ are the following countries: Kupi Kajang, Pakah, Buah, Kalaku, Baringan, and Magnarabunbang; each with a separate petty rajah. The country is moderately well cleared; about an average height, near the shore, of 300 feet; with few habitations about, but no towns or villages. The mountainrange throws a spur downward to the sea in the vicinity of Songĭ and the fine peaks of Lumpu Balong; and Wawa Karang, with theconfusionof mountains, form a magnificent background to the prospect. From Magnarabunbang the land runs away to the eastward toward Tanjong Salanketo, which must be described on a future occasion. In the offing are several islands and numerous reefs. The principal island is Balunrueh, 400 or 500 feet high; bold, steep, and covered with trees, except at its northern extremity; where it is low, with a sandy point. Off this north point runs a coral reef; direction 354°, and extent about two miles. At the S.W. angle of the island there is likewise a reef stretching half a mile; and the shores all round, for a short distance, are lined with coral, outside of which the water is apparently very deep. We could get no soundings with a hand lead, half a mile to the westward.“Off Balunrueh, to the S.E., is the islet of Liang Liang; next to Liang Liang, Tanbunoh, which is larger; then Cadingareh Batantampeh (the largest), Cotingduan Lariahriah, and two islands to the northward called Canallo. Balunrueh and Batantampeh have both indifferent fresh water; the former near the low point at the north end. From the S.W. end of Liang Liang a reef runs out. The bearing, from the small hill, over the watering place of Balunrueh, was 77°. The reef extends to 104°, and stretches to the southward beside: near Liang Liang it is narrow. Its limits I could not define.“Between Liang Liang and Tanbunoh a narrow reef, and spits from most of the islands. Two patches lay off Balunrueh about two miles and a half: the first, bearing 319°, is narrow, and about half a mile long; the other smaller, and bearing 287°. Part of the day we passed on Balunrueh was very hot; but we got satisfactory sights, and sailed round the island, returning to the vessel about six in the evening.“I must now return to Labu, to give some account of the channel between the reefs; as, from the appearance of the charts, it would seem impossible to navigate the western side of the bay. Having passed Tanjong Labuat a distance of 3½ or 4 miles, get the flat-topped hill called Bulu Tanna ahead. Close to the Bulu Tanna, in the foreground, is another smaller hill, with two remarkable tufts on the top: this hill, just open to the eastward of Bulu Tanna, is the leading mark for Songĭ, which stands to the westward. This mark will lead clear, or very nearly so, of all the reefs; but as there is uncertainty in the distance from Tanjong Labu, it may be necessary to diverge from the straight course in order to avoid some of the patches. In the daytime the coral is seen with the greatest ease; and a vessel with a lookout aloft, and a breeze, may proceed with safely. The first reef is on the starboard hand; part was dry, and shoal-water about. This first patch is in the proximity of the great reef called Melompereh, which runs to the eastward. Beside these, the channel is occasionally lined by patches on either hand; but is nowhere narrower than a mile and a half, and is anything but difficult navigation, so far, in clear weather.“Jan. 4th, 1840.—Arrived off Songĭ on the 1st, and dispatched a boat to the old Rajah, or Rana, of Lamatte. Our answer was, that not, having been to Boni, she feared receiving us, as she felt inclined; but if we would come to her house, she should be glad to see us. On the following day, accordingly, we paid our visit at her residence, which is situated about four miles up the river Tanca.“The old lady is about sixty-five years of age, and (as she herself informed us) very poor. Her house, indeed, bears every mark of great poverty; having a leaky roof, and not sufficient matting to cover the bamboo floors. She was kind, and seemed pleased to see us; said I should henceforward be her son, and that nothing but her fear of the Boni Rajah prevented her receiving me in the best way in her power; but pointing to the roof and to the floor, she repeated, ‘I have nothing.’ I presented her with such articles as I thought would be acceptable to her; and, in return, she gave me a sarong.“The population of the country is considerable. The last district I mentioned was Magnarabunbang. The town of that name, on the sea-side, consists of forty-fivehouses, beside a roving population of Badjows. Along the coast to the eastward, and close to Magnarabunbang, is the river of Songĭ. Proceeding up this shallow river, the first village is Tacolompeh, situated on the right bank, and consisting of twenty houses; nearly opposite the village of Pangassa, of thirteen houses; and farther up, about four miles from the riverʼs mouth, stands Songĭ, consisting of 164 houses on the right bank, and 60 on the left. These places are all on the low ground, and surrounded with cocoanut-trees.“Joining the district of Magnarabunbang, on the coast, is Lamatte, the rajanate of our old friend. The river, like the Songĭ, is shallow, and running through very low ground. On the left bank is Luppa, consisting of twenty-five houses; then, on the right, Ulo, twenty-two houses; and above Ulo comes Ulluē, of twelve houses. Nearly opposite Ulluē is Balammepa, with thirty houses, superior to the others, and inhabited by merchants who have made money in trading voyages. This village sends yearly two prahus to Singapore. Just above Ulluē stand seven houses; and above Balammepa is Tanca, the residence of the Rajah of Lamatte, consisting of ten houses. The streams, as I have said, are shallow, and the ground low, neatly cultivated with Indian corn, and abounding in cocoanut-trees. Behind Magnarabunbang there is a narrow strip of low ground, which becomes wider as it advances to the eastward, with here and there moderate elevations.“The chief product of the country is coffee, which is grown in great quantities on the hills, but brought down as it ripens, when it is collected by the Bugis merchants for their yearly shipments. The yearly produce is stated to be 2000 coyans or 80,000 peculs. The price is from fifteen to sixteen Java rupees the pecul; to which must be added the trouble and expense of storing and clearing from the inner skin. Tortoise-shell is brought in by the Badjows; and mother-of-pearl shells in any quantity there is demand for. Taking the number of houses in this small space, above described, the total will be 308 houses, which reckoned at the low estimate of eight persons for each house, will give 2464 inhabitants; this, however, is far below the proper estimate,as there are villages scattered between the rivers, and numbers of detached houses; in all, therefore, safely computed at 5000 persons.The villages, with the exception of Balammepa, have an aspect of poverty, and the country is ravaged by that frightful scourge the small-pox, and likewise some cases apparently of cholera, from the account given of the complaint. Near the hill of Bulu Tanna there is a hot spring, and likewise, by the report of the natives, some slight remains of an old building. I regretted much not seeing these; but the natives, with much politeness, begged me not to go previous to my visit to Boni, as they would be answerable for allowing strangers to see the country without orders from the chief rajah. All I see and hear convinces me that the Rajah of Boni has great power over the entire country. On a friendly communication with him, therefore, depends our chance of seeing something of the interior.“The inhabitants here are polite, but shy and reserved: and the death of the Rana of Songĭ and the absence of the Rajah Mooda, her reported successor, have been against us.“5th.—Sailing from Songĭ about 4P.M., we directed our course for Tanjong Salanketo. The breeze was stiff, which caused us to use considerable precaution in sailing among the shoals. Assisted by a native Nacòdah, by name Dain Pativi, we were enabled to keep the tortuous channel, of which otherwise we should have been ignorant. A little farther than the Tanca river is a shoal stretching from the shore, to avoid which we kept Canallo on our lee bow: this being cleared, we gradually luffed up, ran between two shoals, and passed several others.”

CHAPTER V.Summary of information obtained during this visit to Borneo.—Geographical and topographical observations.—Produce.—Various Dyak tribes.—Natural history.—Language.—Origin of Races.—Sail from Singapore.—Celebes.—Face of the country.—Waterfall.Mr. Brookeʼs journal continues his observations on the people and country he had just left; and, I need hardly say, communicates much of novelty and interest in his own plain and simple manner.“Oct. 5th.—Just laying our course. I may here briefly recapitulate the information acquired during the last two months and a half. Beginning from Tanjong Api, we have delineated the coast as far as Tanjong Balaban, fixing the principal points by chronometer and observation, and filling in the details by personal inspection. The distance, on a line drawn along the headlands, may be from 120 to 130 miles, the entire coast being previously quite unknown.“Within this space are many fine rivers, and some navigable for vessels of considerable burden, and well calculated for the extension of commerce, such as Sarāwak, Morotaba, and Sadung. The others, equally fine streams, are barred, but offer admirable means for an easy inland communication; these are the Quop, Boyur, Riam, Samarahan, Lundu, Samatan, &c. In our excursions into the interior of the island, most of these streams have been ascended to a distance of 25 or 30 miles, and some further. We traced the Samarahan river for 70 or80 miles from its mouth, and passed through portions of the intermediate streams of the Riam, Quop, and Boyur. The Morotaba, which is but another mouth of the Sarāwak, we passed through several times from the sea to its junction with that river. The Lundu and Sadung rivers were likewise ascended to the distance of near 30 miles; and plans of all these rivers have been taken as accurately as circumstances would permit, by observations of the latitude and longitude, and various points, and an eye-sketch of the distance of each reach and the compass bearing. The entrances into the Sarāwak and Morotaba were carefully examined, and the former accurately laid down. The productions of the country attracted our attention, and the articles best fitted for commerce have been already enumerated. Among these are, first, minerals; say gold, tin, probably copper, antimony-ore, and fine white clay for pipes. Secondly, woods of the finest descriptions, for ship-building, and other purposes; besides aloes wood (lignum aloes), and arang or ebony wood, canes, and ratans. To these may be added, among vegetable productions, sago, compon, rice, &c., &c.“The wild nutmeg was found growing on the islands of Sadung and Sumpudin in abundance and perfection, proving that by cultivation it might be brought into the market as cheap, and probably as good, as those produced in the Moluccas. We have various specimens of ores and stones, which, on being tested, may prove valuable commodities. Among these is decomposed granite rock (I believe), containing minute particles of what we conceive to be gold, and an ore believed to be copper. Besides the articles above enumerated, are birdsʼ nests and beesʼ wax in considerable quantities, and others not worth detailing here. We have been able, during our residence with the Borneons, to continue on the most friendly terms with them, and to open a field of research for our subsequent inquiries in the proper season. My attention has been anxiously directed to acquiring a knowledge of the Dyak tribes; and for this purpose I passed ten days among them at Lundu. I have made such vocabularies of the language of the Sibnowans and Lundus as my means allowed; and a further addition of theirvarious dialects will furnish, I conceive, matters of high importance to those interested in tracing the emigration of nations. I may here briefly notice, that the nation of Kayans, included under the common denomination of Dyak, are a tattooed race, who use the sumpitan, or blow-pipe; while the other Dyak tribes (which are very numerous) are not tattooed, and never use the blow-pipe.“The arms and instruments of many tribes are in my possession; and among the Sibnowans I had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with their habits, customs, and modes of living.“The appellation of the Dyak tribes near the coast is usually the same as the rivers from which they originally came. The Dyaks of Sibnow come from the river of that name, just beyond Balaban Point, though large communities are dispersed on the Lundu and the Sadung. The same may be said of the Sarebus tribe (the most predaceous and wild on the coast), which has powerful branches of the original stock on the Skarran river. Beyond Point Balaban is a bay—between that point and Point Samaludum; the first river is the Sibnow; the next the Balonlupon, which branches into the rivers of Sakarran and Linga; passing Tanjong Samaludum you come to the two islands of Talison; and between it and the next point, or Banting Marron, lies the Sarebus river. Between Banting Marron and Tanjong Siri are the Kaleka river, a high mountain called Maban, and then Rejong, the chief river of the Kayans. I may here likewise correct some of the statements and names usually current in England. The Idaan, represented as a Dyak tribe, are a hill people, and probably not Dyaks; and the name Marat is applied by the natives of Borneo to the various wild tribes, Dyaks and others, without any specific meaning.“In natural history the expedition has done as much as was in its power, by forming collections of birds, animals, and reptiles; but these collections are as small as our means. Specimens of woods and seeds have been preserved; but the season was not the proper one for flowers, as very few indeed were seen. The specimen of the hand of the mĭas pappan and the head of an adultmĭas rombĭ will, I believe, go far to establish the existence of an animal similar to the Pongo of the Count Buffon. I have little doubt that I shall be able in the ensuing season to establish the fact, or set it at rest forever; though I confess myself greatly inclined to think that the former will be the case. I here leave the coast with an excellent prospect for the coming year; and I would not now have quitted it so soon, but for the want of provisions, added to which, the change of the monsoon, bringing squally and dark weather, greatly interferes with our further progress in surveying.“Nov. 22d, 1839.—The Malayan language has been compared to thelingua francaof Europe. They are both, indeed, used by various nations in their commercial transactions; but, beyond this, nothing can be more unjust or absurd than the comparison. Thelingua francais a jargon compounded at random, devoid of grammar or elegance; the Malayan, on the contrary, is musical, simple in its construction, and well calculated for the expression of poetry. It boasts many dialects, like the Italian, of superior softness, and, like the Italian, it is derived from many sources, refining all to the most liquid sounds by the addition of a final vowel. I fully concur with Mr. Marsden in his opinion that the Malayan tongue, though derived from the Sanscrit, the Arabic, the Hindoostani, &c., &c., is based on the language which he calls the Polynesian; a language which may be considered original (as far as we know), and which embraces so vast an extent of geographical surface. The proof of this rests mainly on the fact that the simple wants of man, as well as the most striking features of nature, are expressed in the Polynesian; while the secondary class of ideas is derived from the Sanscrit, or some other language, and usually grafted in a felicitous manner on the original stem. By an original language, I must be understood, however, to mean only a language which can not be derived from any other known tongue. I seek not to trace the language of Noah, or to raise a theory which shall derive the finished and grammatical Sanscrit, the pure and elegant Greek, from some barbarous stock, whether Celtic or Teutonic. Such inquiries are fitted for those with leisure and patience to undertake a hopelesstask, and learning enough to achieve better things. When we look for the origin of languages we are lost, for those existing afford us no help. They present some affinities, as might be expected; but their discrepancies are irreconcilable; and, amid many equally good claims, who shall be able to demonstrate the only one which is right? Supposing even that all languages agreed as to primary ideas, it would be difficult to determine the original; but when this primary class of ideas is expressed by sounds entirely and totally different, the task becomes utterly hopeless, and the labor as vain as that of Sisyphus. Indeed, it would be very difficult to show how languages, derived from one stock, could possibly differ so far in their expression of the simplest ideas and wants as not to be mutually traceable: and truly, until this is done (which I conceive impossible), I am content to rest in the belief that there are more original languagesthan one—a conclusion agreeable to common sense, and consonant with the early history of the Hebrews.“To trace the original identity of distant races, and their early migrations, through the affinity of language, is indeed a limited task compared with the other, but one both feasible and useful. To further this labor, the smallest additional information is valuable; and the dialects of the rude people inhabiting the interior of the islands of Borneo and Celebes would be highly important. Previously, however, to instituting such a comparison, as far as in my power, I propose taking a brief glance at the different races whose languages may be included under the common name of Polynesian.“In the first place, the Malayan. Issuing from the interior of Sumatra, there is reason to conjecture, and even facts to prove, that originally the dialect of Menangkābau resembled the other dialects of its birthplace. The gradual extension of a warlike race gave a polish to the language; additional wants, increasing luxury, extended knowledge, and contact with the merchants of many Eastern nations, all combined to produce the Malayan in its present form. But, during the progress of this change, the radical Polynesian stock remained; and we find, consequently, that the words necessary to mankind in their earliest stage bear a striking and convincingresemblance to the dialects of Rejong and Lampung, in Sumatra. Subsequent improvements were largely adopted from the Sanscrit and the Arabic; but the fact of the primary ideas being expressed in the Polynesian must preclude the conclusion of either of these being the source whence the Malayan is derived, its improvement and extension being alone referable to them. Marsden positively states his inability to trace the Polynesian to any other Eastern language; and, at the same time, he has demonstrated, in what he considers a convincing manner, the identity of this language from Madagascar and the islands of the Pacific to the Philippines and Sumatra.“It may here be incidentally remarked, that while so many authors are endeavoring to prove that the Asiatic archipelago was peopled from the Western Continent,1they overlook the fact of the radical difference of language. Unless the roots of the language can be traced either to India, Cambodia, or other parts, it must follow, as a matter of course, that the islands were peopled at a time previous to the introduction of the language now spoken on the Continent; else how are we to account for the simple dialects of a rude people being radically distinct from the language of the mother country? If the Dyaks of Borneo and the Arafuras of Celebes and New Guinea speak a dialect of the Polynesian, it will go far to prove an original people as well as an original language, that is, as original as the Celtic, the Teutonic, the South American; original because not derived from any known source.“These brief remarks on the Malayan will, I believe, apply to the language of the Island of Java, which, equally improved and enlarged by the addition of Sanscrit and Arabic words, and differently modified, retains, nevertheless, its radical Polynesian stock and its distinct written character, as do likewise the dialects of the islands of Bally and Lombock. The districts of Rejong, Lampung, &c., in Sumatra, retain the original language in a much higher degree, possess distinctive written characters, and have little intermixture of Sanscrit orArabic. Celebes, or Bugis-land, with a distinct language and character, will probably be found to follow the same rule; and the Philippines, including Mindanao, according to Marsden, possess the same language, though altered and modified into the Tagala tongue.“Madagascar, so far removed, exhibits in its language a dialect of Tagala, or, strictly speaking, of Polynesian; and the South Sea islands present striking and almost convincing proofs of the same origin.“The inquiry ought to be pushed to the languages of the Mexicans and Peruvians of South America; and, as far as our knowledge permits, their identity established or disproved; for the language of this by-gone people would go far toward tracing the course of emigration, it being evident that a strong argument would be raised in favor of the migration proceeding from east to west, if the language is common to South America and Sumatra, and not traceable to any country of the Continent of India.“It remains, however, to inquire into the language of the interior tribes of Borneo, Celebes, and New Guinea; and, on such inquiry, should they be found to possess the same primary roots as the rest, I believe the conclusion must ultimately be arrived at of the existence of a Polynesian language common to this vast geographical extent, and distinct from the languages of Asia. In tracing this identity, we can only, of course, find it in few instances in the cultivated Javanese and Malayan languages. Discrepancies must naturally be great from the intermixture, from early recorded times, of all languages in the archipelago; but, nevertheless, if the radical affinities be striking, they will be conclusive in establishing the original identity of all the races before mentioned; for, without this original identity, how can we account for these affinities of language? It may, indeed, be urged that this language has gradually crept into the dialects of Java and Menangkābau. But, in the first place, the affinities will be found in the very roots of the language—in the expressions for the primary and necessary ideas, which seldom alter in any people; in the next, there is a high degree of improbability in supposing a rude dialect to supplant a substantial portion ofa more polished one; and, thirdly, we must not overlook the collateral evidence of the similarity of conformation pervading the entire race from Polynesia to the archipelago—distinct alike from the Caucasian and the Mongolian.“In tracing the identity of this language, we may reckon the dialects of the Dyaks of Borneo, &c., as the lowest step of the ladder; those of the Pacific islands next; and so through the dialects of Sumatra and Tagala, up to the Malayan and Javanese. For this purpose, a comparative view of all must be attained; and Eastern scholars should point out, when possible, the words taken from Sanscrit and other languages. For my own part, these remarks are made as a sketch to be enlarged on, and to assist in obtaining the vocabularies of the Dyaks and Arafuras.“Dec. 6th.—In looking over Marsdenʼs admirable Introduction to his Malayan Grammar, I find I have taken many of his views in the foregoing remarks; but I consider that his opinions may be pushed to conclusions more extended than he has ventured upon. Having described the ‘exterior circumstance’ of the Malayan language, he proceeds to point out those more original languages from whence we may presume it to be derived.“‘The words of which it consists may be divided into three classes, and that two of these are Hindoo and Arabic has been generally admitted. The doubts that have arisen respect only the third, or that original and essential part which, to the Malayan, stands in the same relation as the Saxon to the English, and which I have asserted to be one of the numerous dialects of the widely-extended language found to prevail, with strong features of similarity, throughout the archipelago on the hither side of New Guinea, and, with a less marked resemblance, among the islands of the Pacific Ocean.... To show the general identity, or radical connection of its dialects, and, at the same time, their individual differences, I beg leave to refer the reader2to the tables annexed to a paper on the subject which I presented, so long ago as the year 1780, to the Society of Antiquaries,and isprintedin vol. vi. of theArchæologia; also, a table of comparative numerals, in the appendix to vol. iii. of Captain Cookʼs last voyage; and likewise to the chart of ten numerals, in two hundred languages, by the Rev. R. Patrick, recently published in ValpyʼsClassical, Biblical and Oriental Journal.’“Again, Marsden states:“‘But whatever pretensions any particular spot may have to precedence in this respect, the so wide dissemination of a language common to all bespeaks a high degree of antiquity, and gives a claim to originality, as far as we can venture to apply that term, which signifies no more than the state beyond which we have not the means, either historically or by fair inference, of tracing the origin. In this restricted sense it is that we are justified in considering the main portion of the Malayan as original, or indigenous,its affinity to any Continental tongue not having yet been shown; and least of all can we suppose it connected with the monosyllabic, or Indo-Chinese, with which it has been classed.’“When we find an original language bearing no traces of being derived from any Continental tongue, we must conclude the people likewise to be original, in the restricted sense, or to have emigrated with their language from some source hitherto unknown. The Sanscrit and Arabic additions to the original stock are well marked, though the period of the introduction of the former is hidden in darkness. It may be inferred, however, that it came with the Hindoo religion, the remains of which are yet in existence. It is evident that the question resolves itself into two distinct branches: first, the original language, its extent, the coincidence of its dialects, its source, &c.; secondly, its discrepancies, whence arising, &c.; together with the inquiry into the probable time and mode of the introduction of the Sanscrit. With the latter of these inquiries I have nothing to do; on the former subject I may collect some valuable information by adding the dialects of the savage tribes in the interior of Borneo and Celebes.“The alphabets of the island of Java, of the Tagala, and the Bugis of Celebes, are given by Corneille, Le Brun, Thevenot, and Forrest.”Of Mr. Brookeʼs sojourn at Singapore it is unnecessary to speak; and I accordingly resume my extracts with his ensuing voyage from that port, and again for the Indian archipelago, but contenting myself, for reasons which need not be entered into at length, with only that portion of his excursion to Celebes and among the Bugis which particularly bears upon his Borneon sequel.“Dec. 7th, 1839.—Off Great Solombo. Never was there a more tedious passage than ours has been from Singapore. Sailing from that place on the 20th of November, we have encountered a succession of calms and light winds—creeping some days a few miles, and often lying becalmed for forty-eight hours without a breath to fill the sails. Passing through the straits of Rhio and Banca, and watering at the islands of Nanka, we stood thence for Pulo Babian, or Lubeck, lay a night becalmed close to the Arrogants Shoal, of which, however, we saw nothing, owing, probably, to the smoothness of the water. The depths are greater than laid down on Horsburghʼs chart, varying from thirty-six to thirty-eight fathoms. A calm now keeps us off the greater Solombo, which it is my intention to visit when in my power.“8th.—Drifted past Solombo in the calm, and, reluctant to return, I continued on my voyage with a light breeze from the eastward. This island is well laid down: from the sea we made its longitude 113° 31′; Horsburgh gives it 113° 28′, which, considering that both observations were made afloat, is a near enough approximation. The land is low, with a single hill, showing round from the westward, flat or wedge-shaped from the eastward. The smaller Solombo is low: both wooded.“10th.—In sight of Laurots islands.“11th.—In the evening stood within four miles of the southern island of Laurots. These islands are high and steep, covered with wood, and uninhabited. The easternmost island seems, by bearings, badly laid down, being not far enough to the southward and eastward. The southern island is called by the Bugis, Mata Siri; the eastern, Kadapangan; the northern one, Kalambow. A few rocks and islets lay off them; water deep, and apparently clear of all danger.“15th.—Turatte Bay. After experiencing continued calms and light winds, and falling short of water, we at length reached this bay, and anchored in 7½ fathoms. The first impression of Celebes is highly favorable. The mountains present a bold outline, and rise in confused masses, until crowned by what is commonly calledBonthian Hill. The sides of the mountains slope gradually to the sea, and present an inviting and diversified aspect of wood and cleared land. I dispatched a boat for water to a small village; and the crew were well received by the natives, after they became assured that they were not pirates.“The outline of this bay, in Norieʼs chart, is not badly laid down; but on either side there is great room for improvement and survey. Turatte Bay may be fairly so called, as the district (ornegri) generally bears that name. The larboard point of Turatte Bay (approaching) is called Malăsaro, which comes next to Tanjong Layken in the charts. The starboard point is Tanjong Uju Loke, and from Uju Loke the land runs low to the point of Galumpang, the entrance of a river marked in the charts. From Uju Loke (named Bolo Bolo in Norieʼs chart) the coast-line runs for 12 or 15 miles to Bolo Bolo, which space is entirely omitted. Bolo Bolo forms the entrance of Bonthian Bay.“16th.—Bonthian Bay. Called Banthi by the natives: is in lat. 5° 37′S.; long. 119° 33′E.“The bay is pretty well laid down by Dalrymple. The small Dutch fort, or intrenchment, stands rather on the eastern bight of the bay, and is composed of a few huts, surrounded by a ditch and green bank. Two guns at each corner compose its strength, and the garrison consists of about thirty Dutchmen and a few Javanese soldiers. We were cordially and hospitably received by the officers, and, after a great deal of trouble and many excuses, here procured horses to carry us to the waterfall. Bonthian Hill is immediately over this place; a flat space of rice-ground, some miles in extent, only intervening. The hill (so called) may with more propriety be designated as a range of mountains, which here attain their utmost height and sink down gradually almost across the peninsula. The view is most attractive;the green and refreshing rice-grounds in the front and behind, the slopes of the mountain and its various peaks, verdant grass, wooded chasms, and all the inequalities which mark a mountain region. I am very anxious to mount to the summit; but so many difficulties are thrown in the way, that I almost despair—horses and guides are not to be procured. The Dutch say the natives are lazy: the natives say they dare not go without authority—either way we are the losers; but the officers certainly exert themselves in our favor. Coming into this bay, there is some difficulty in distinguishing the fort; but coming from the westward, its position may readily be known by steering for two lumps on the S.E. declivity of the mountain.“18th.—Got ashore by seven oʼclock to start for the waterfall; till nine we were detained by want of horses, but after much trouble the animals were procured, and off we started. Our party consisted of three doctors (him of the fortification, a German gentleman, Treacher, and Theylingen) and myself, with native guides. The road lay for a short way along the beach, then struck into the thicket, and we commenced a gradual ascent. The scenery was most striking and lovely; glades and glens, grassy knolls and slopes, with scattered trees, and the voice of a hidden river which reached our ears from a deep valley on the left hand. Proceeding thus for some distance, we at length plunged into the wood, and descending a short space, found ourselves by the sides of the stream below the waterfall. Here, breakfast being finished, we all stripped to our trowsers, entered the water, and advanced along the bed of the river to the fall. The banks on either hand, steep and woody, prevented any other mode of approach, and the stream, rushing down and falling over huge rocks, rendered the only available one any thing but easy. At times we were up to the arms, then crawling out and stealing with care over wet and slippery stones, now taking advantage of a few yards of dry ground, and ever and anon swimming a pool to shorten an unpleasant climb. In this manner we advanced about half a mile, when the fall became visible; thick trees and hanging creepers intervened; between and through the foliage we first saw the water glancingand shining in its descent. The effect was perfect. After some little further and more difficult progress, we stood beneath the fall, of about 150 feet sheer descent. The wind whirled in eddies, and carried the sleet over us, chilling our bodies, but unable to damp our admiration. The basin of the fall is part of a circle, with the outlet forming a funnel; bare cliffs, perpendicular on all sides, form the upper portion of the vale, and above and below is all the luxuriant vegetation of the East; trees, arched and interlaced, and throwing down long fantastic roots and creepers, shade the scene, and form one of the richest sylvan prospects I have ever beheld. The water, foaming and flashing, and then escaping amid huge gray stones on its troubled course—clear and transparent, expanding into tranquil pools, with the flickering sunshine through the dense foliage—all combine to form at scene such as Tasso has described.3“Inferior in body of water to many falls in Switzerland, it is superior to any in sylvan beauty; its deep seclusion, its undisturbed solitude, and the difficulty of access, combine to heighten its charms to the imagination. Our descent was like our upward progress. Having again dressed ourselves, we rested for a time, and then started for Bonthian—wearing away the rest of the day shooting amid the hills. Theylingen and myself procured many specimens, and returned laden with our spoil, and charmed with our dayʼs excursion. The waterfall is called Sapo, from the neighboring green peak of that name. The height of our resting-place (not the highest point of the dayʼs ascent) was 750.5 feet, by Newmanʼs two barometers; yet this is the bottom of the mountain on its western slope. The officers dined with us; they are very polite and kind; and we retired early to rest, all the better for our excursion.“19th.—At 6 A.M. went with the Dutch officers shooting, and reached the same stream which forms the waterfall. The scenery delightful; water cool, and pleasant for bathing, a luxury I enjoyed in high perfection. Aboard again to a late breakfast.”1Western as regards Polynesia.2Also, vol. iv. of theBengal Asiatic Researches.3Canto xv., stanza 55, 56.

Summary of information obtained during this visit to Borneo.—Geographical and topographical observations.—Produce.—Various Dyak tribes.—Natural history.—Language.—Origin of Races.—Sail from Singapore.—Celebes.—Face of the country.—Waterfall.

Summary of information obtained during this visit to Borneo.—Geographical and topographical observations.—Produce.—Various Dyak tribes.—Natural history.—Language.—Origin of Races.—Sail from Singapore.—Celebes.—Face of the country.—Waterfall.

Mr. Brookeʼs journal continues his observations on the people and country he had just left; and, I need hardly say, communicates much of novelty and interest in his own plain and simple manner.

“Oct. 5th.—Just laying our course. I may here briefly recapitulate the information acquired during the last two months and a half. Beginning from Tanjong Api, we have delineated the coast as far as Tanjong Balaban, fixing the principal points by chronometer and observation, and filling in the details by personal inspection. The distance, on a line drawn along the headlands, may be from 120 to 130 miles, the entire coast being previously quite unknown.

“Within this space are many fine rivers, and some navigable for vessels of considerable burden, and well calculated for the extension of commerce, such as Sarāwak, Morotaba, and Sadung. The others, equally fine streams, are barred, but offer admirable means for an easy inland communication; these are the Quop, Boyur, Riam, Samarahan, Lundu, Samatan, &c. In our excursions into the interior of the island, most of these streams have been ascended to a distance of 25 or 30 miles, and some further. We traced the Samarahan river for 70 or80 miles from its mouth, and passed through portions of the intermediate streams of the Riam, Quop, and Boyur. The Morotaba, which is but another mouth of the Sarāwak, we passed through several times from the sea to its junction with that river. The Lundu and Sadung rivers were likewise ascended to the distance of near 30 miles; and plans of all these rivers have been taken as accurately as circumstances would permit, by observations of the latitude and longitude, and various points, and an eye-sketch of the distance of each reach and the compass bearing. The entrances into the Sarāwak and Morotaba were carefully examined, and the former accurately laid down. The productions of the country attracted our attention, and the articles best fitted for commerce have been already enumerated. Among these are, first, minerals; say gold, tin, probably copper, antimony-ore, and fine white clay for pipes. Secondly, woods of the finest descriptions, for ship-building, and other purposes; besides aloes wood (lignum aloes), and arang or ebony wood, canes, and ratans. To these may be added, among vegetable productions, sago, compon, rice, &c., &c.

“The wild nutmeg was found growing on the islands of Sadung and Sumpudin in abundance and perfection, proving that by cultivation it might be brought into the market as cheap, and probably as good, as those produced in the Moluccas. We have various specimens of ores and stones, which, on being tested, may prove valuable commodities. Among these is decomposed granite rock (I believe), containing minute particles of what we conceive to be gold, and an ore believed to be copper. Besides the articles above enumerated, are birdsʼ nests and beesʼ wax in considerable quantities, and others not worth detailing here. We have been able, during our residence with the Borneons, to continue on the most friendly terms with them, and to open a field of research for our subsequent inquiries in the proper season. My attention has been anxiously directed to acquiring a knowledge of the Dyak tribes; and for this purpose I passed ten days among them at Lundu. I have made such vocabularies of the language of the Sibnowans and Lundus as my means allowed; and a further addition of theirvarious dialects will furnish, I conceive, matters of high importance to those interested in tracing the emigration of nations. I may here briefly notice, that the nation of Kayans, included under the common denomination of Dyak, are a tattooed race, who use the sumpitan, or blow-pipe; while the other Dyak tribes (which are very numerous) are not tattooed, and never use the blow-pipe.

“The arms and instruments of many tribes are in my possession; and among the Sibnowans I had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with their habits, customs, and modes of living.

“The appellation of the Dyak tribes near the coast is usually the same as the rivers from which they originally came. The Dyaks of Sibnow come from the river of that name, just beyond Balaban Point, though large communities are dispersed on the Lundu and the Sadung. The same may be said of the Sarebus tribe (the most predaceous and wild on the coast), which has powerful branches of the original stock on the Skarran river. Beyond Point Balaban is a bay—between that point and Point Samaludum; the first river is the Sibnow; the next the Balonlupon, which branches into the rivers of Sakarran and Linga; passing Tanjong Samaludum you come to the two islands of Talison; and between it and the next point, or Banting Marron, lies the Sarebus river. Between Banting Marron and Tanjong Siri are the Kaleka river, a high mountain called Maban, and then Rejong, the chief river of the Kayans. I may here likewise correct some of the statements and names usually current in England. The Idaan, represented as a Dyak tribe, are a hill people, and probably not Dyaks; and the name Marat is applied by the natives of Borneo to the various wild tribes, Dyaks and others, without any specific meaning.

“In natural history the expedition has done as much as was in its power, by forming collections of birds, animals, and reptiles; but these collections are as small as our means. Specimens of woods and seeds have been preserved; but the season was not the proper one for flowers, as very few indeed were seen. The specimen of the hand of the mĭas pappan and the head of an adultmĭas rombĭ will, I believe, go far to establish the existence of an animal similar to the Pongo of the Count Buffon. I have little doubt that I shall be able in the ensuing season to establish the fact, or set it at rest forever; though I confess myself greatly inclined to think that the former will be the case. I here leave the coast with an excellent prospect for the coming year; and I would not now have quitted it so soon, but for the want of provisions, added to which, the change of the monsoon, bringing squally and dark weather, greatly interferes with our further progress in surveying.

“Nov. 22d, 1839.—The Malayan language has been compared to thelingua francaof Europe. They are both, indeed, used by various nations in their commercial transactions; but, beyond this, nothing can be more unjust or absurd than the comparison. Thelingua francais a jargon compounded at random, devoid of grammar or elegance; the Malayan, on the contrary, is musical, simple in its construction, and well calculated for the expression of poetry. It boasts many dialects, like the Italian, of superior softness, and, like the Italian, it is derived from many sources, refining all to the most liquid sounds by the addition of a final vowel. I fully concur with Mr. Marsden in his opinion that the Malayan tongue, though derived from the Sanscrit, the Arabic, the Hindoostani, &c., &c., is based on the language which he calls the Polynesian; a language which may be considered original (as far as we know), and which embraces so vast an extent of geographical surface. The proof of this rests mainly on the fact that the simple wants of man, as well as the most striking features of nature, are expressed in the Polynesian; while the secondary class of ideas is derived from the Sanscrit, or some other language, and usually grafted in a felicitous manner on the original stem. By an original language, I must be understood, however, to mean only a language which can not be derived from any other known tongue. I seek not to trace the language of Noah, or to raise a theory which shall derive the finished and grammatical Sanscrit, the pure and elegant Greek, from some barbarous stock, whether Celtic or Teutonic. Such inquiries are fitted for those with leisure and patience to undertake a hopelesstask, and learning enough to achieve better things. When we look for the origin of languages we are lost, for those existing afford us no help. They present some affinities, as might be expected; but their discrepancies are irreconcilable; and, amid many equally good claims, who shall be able to demonstrate the only one which is right? Supposing even that all languages agreed as to primary ideas, it would be difficult to determine the original; but when this primary class of ideas is expressed by sounds entirely and totally different, the task becomes utterly hopeless, and the labor as vain as that of Sisyphus. Indeed, it would be very difficult to show how languages, derived from one stock, could possibly differ so far in their expression of the simplest ideas and wants as not to be mutually traceable: and truly, until this is done (which I conceive impossible), I am content to rest in the belief that there are more original languagesthan one—a conclusion agreeable to common sense, and consonant with the early history of the Hebrews.

“To trace the original identity of distant races, and their early migrations, through the affinity of language, is indeed a limited task compared with the other, but one both feasible and useful. To further this labor, the smallest additional information is valuable; and the dialects of the rude people inhabiting the interior of the islands of Borneo and Celebes would be highly important. Previously, however, to instituting such a comparison, as far as in my power, I propose taking a brief glance at the different races whose languages may be included under the common name of Polynesian.

“In the first place, the Malayan. Issuing from the interior of Sumatra, there is reason to conjecture, and even facts to prove, that originally the dialect of Menangkābau resembled the other dialects of its birthplace. The gradual extension of a warlike race gave a polish to the language; additional wants, increasing luxury, extended knowledge, and contact with the merchants of many Eastern nations, all combined to produce the Malayan in its present form. But, during the progress of this change, the radical Polynesian stock remained; and we find, consequently, that the words necessary to mankind in their earliest stage bear a striking and convincingresemblance to the dialects of Rejong and Lampung, in Sumatra. Subsequent improvements were largely adopted from the Sanscrit and the Arabic; but the fact of the primary ideas being expressed in the Polynesian must preclude the conclusion of either of these being the source whence the Malayan is derived, its improvement and extension being alone referable to them. Marsden positively states his inability to trace the Polynesian to any other Eastern language; and, at the same time, he has demonstrated, in what he considers a convincing manner, the identity of this language from Madagascar and the islands of the Pacific to the Philippines and Sumatra.

“It may here be incidentally remarked, that while so many authors are endeavoring to prove that the Asiatic archipelago was peopled from the Western Continent,1they overlook the fact of the radical difference of language. Unless the roots of the language can be traced either to India, Cambodia, or other parts, it must follow, as a matter of course, that the islands were peopled at a time previous to the introduction of the language now spoken on the Continent; else how are we to account for the simple dialects of a rude people being radically distinct from the language of the mother country? If the Dyaks of Borneo and the Arafuras of Celebes and New Guinea speak a dialect of the Polynesian, it will go far to prove an original people as well as an original language, that is, as original as the Celtic, the Teutonic, the South American; original because not derived from any known source.

“These brief remarks on the Malayan will, I believe, apply to the language of the Island of Java, which, equally improved and enlarged by the addition of Sanscrit and Arabic words, and differently modified, retains, nevertheless, its radical Polynesian stock and its distinct written character, as do likewise the dialects of the islands of Bally and Lombock. The districts of Rejong, Lampung, &c., in Sumatra, retain the original language in a much higher degree, possess distinctive written characters, and have little intermixture of Sanscrit orArabic. Celebes, or Bugis-land, with a distinct language and character, will probably be found to follow the same rule; and the Philippines, including Mindanao, according to Marsden, possess the same language, though altered and modified into the Tagala tongue.

“Madagascar, so far removed, exhibits in its language a dialect of Tagala, or, strictly speaking, of Polynesian; and the South Sea islands present striking and almost convincing proofs of the same origin.

“The inquiry ought to be pushed to the languages of the Mexicans and Peruvians of South America; and, as far as our knowledge permits, their identity established or disproved; for the language of this by-gone people would go far toward tracing the course of emigration, it being evident that a strong argument would be raised in favor of the migration proceeding from east to west, if the language is common to South America and Sumatra, and not traceable to any country of the Continent of India.

“It remains, however, to inquire into the language of the interior tribes of Borneo, Celebes, and New Guinea; and, on such inquiry, should they be found to possess the same primary roots as the rest, I believe the conclusion must ultimately be arrived at of the existence of a Polynesian language common to this vast geographical extent, and distinct from the languages of Asia. In tracing this identity, we can only, of course, find it in few instances in the cultivated Javanese and Malayan languages. Discrepancies must naturally be great from the intermixture, from early recorded times, of all languages in the archipelago; but, nevertheless, if the radical affinities be striking, they will be conclusive in establishing the original identity of all the races before mentioned; for, without this original identity, how can we account for these affinities of language? It may, indeed, be urged that this language has gradually crept into the dialects of Java and Menangkābau. But, in the first place, the affinities will be found in the very roots of the language—in the expressions for the primary and necessary ideas, which seldom alter in any people; in the next, there is a high degree of improbability in supposing a rude dialect to supplant a substantial portion ofa more polished one; and, thirdly, we must not overlook the collateral evidence of the similarity of conformation pervading the entire race from Polynesia to the archipelago—distinct alike from the Caucasian and the Mongolian.

“In tracing the identity of this language, we may reckon the dialects of the Dyaks of Borneo, &c., as the lowest step of the ladder; those of the Pacific islands next; and so through the dialects of Sumatra and Tagala, up to the Malayan and Javanese. For this purpose, a comparative view of all must be attained; and Eastern scholars should point out, when possible, the words taken from Sanscrit and other languages. For my own part, these remarks are made as a sketch to be enlarged on, and to assist in obtaining the vocabularies of the Dyaks and Arafuras.

“Dec. 6th.—In looking over Marsdenʼs admirable Introduction to his Malayan Grammar, I find I have taken many of his views in the foregoing remarks; but I consider that his opinions may be pushed to conclusions more extended than he has ventured upon. Having described the ‘exterior circumstance’ of the Malayan language, he proceeds to point out those more original languages from whence we may presume it to be derived.

“‘The words of which it consists may be divided into three classes, and that two of these are Hindoo and Arabic has been generally admitted. The doubts that have arisen respect only the third, or that original and essential part which, to the Malayan, stands in the same relation as the Saxon to the English, and which I have asserted to be one of the numerous dialects of the widely-extended language found to prevail, with strong features of similarity, throughout the archipelago on the hither side of New Guinea, and, with a less marked resemblance, among the islands of the Pacific Ocean.... To show the general identity, or radical connection of its dialects, and, at the same time, their individual differences, I beg leave to refer the reader2to the tables annexed to a paper on the subject which I presented, so long ago as the year 1780, to the Society of Antiquaries,and isprintedin vol. vi. of theArchæologia; also, a table of comparative numerals, in the appendix to vol. iii. of Captain Cookʼs last voyage; and likewise to the chart of ten numerals, in two hundred languages, by the Rev. R. Patrick, recently published in ValpyʼsClassical, Biblical and Oriental Journal.’

“Again, Marsden states:

“‘But whatever pretensions any particular spot may have to precedence in this respect, the so wide dissemination of a language common to all bespeaks a high degree of antiquity, and gives a claim to originality, as far as we can venture to apply that term, which signifies no more than the state beyond which we have not the means, either historically or by fair inference, of tracing the origin. In this restricted sense it is that we are justified in considering the main portion of the Malayan as original, or indigenous,its affinity to any Continental tongue not having yet been shown; and least of all can we suppose it connected with the monosyllabic, or Indo-Chinese, with which it has been classed.’

“When we find an original language bearing no traces of being derived from any Continental tongue, we must conclude the people likewise to be original, in the restricted sense, or to have emigrated with their language from some source hitherto unknown. The Sanscrit and Arabic additions to the original stock are well marked, though the period of the introduction of the former is hidden in darkness. It may be inferred, however, that it came with the Hindoo religion, the remains of which are yet in existence. It is evident that the question resolves itself into two distinct branches: first, the original language, its extent, the coincidence of its dialects, its source, &c.; secondly, its discrepancies, whence arising, &c.; together with the inquiry into the probable time and mode of the introduction of the Sanscrit. With the latter of these inquiries I have nothing to do; on the former subject I may collect some valuable information by adding the dialects of the savage tribes in the interior of Borneo and Celebes.

“The alphabets of the island of Java, of the Tagala, and the Bugis of Celebes, are given by Corneille, Le Brun, Thevenot, and Forrest.”

Of Mr. Brookeʼs sojourn at Singapore it is unnecessary to speak; and I accordingly resume my extracts with his ensuing voyage from that port, and again for the Indian archipelago, but contenting myself, for reasons which need not be entered into at length, with only that portion of his excursion to Celebes and among the Bugis which particularly bears upon his Borneon sequel.

“Dec. 7th, 1839.—Off Great Solombo. Never was there a more tedious passage than ours has been from Singapore. Sailing from that place on the 20th of November, we have encountered a succession of calms and light winds—creeping some days a few miles, and often lying becalmed for forty-eight hours without a breath to fill the sails. Passing through the straits of Rhio and Banca, and watering at the islands of Nanka, we stood thence for Pulo Babian, or Lubeck, lay a night becalmed close to the Arrogants Shoal, of which, however, we saw nothing, owing, probably, to the smoothness of the water. The depths are greater than laid down on Horsburghʼs chart, varying from thirty-six to thirty-eight fathoms. A calm now keeps us off the greater Solombo, which it is my intention to visit when in my power.

“8th.—Drifted past Solombo in the calm, and, reluctant to return, I continued on my voyage with a light breeze from the eastward. This island is well laid down: from the sea we made its longitude 113° 31′; Horsburgh gives it 113° 28′, which, considering that both observations were made afloat, is a near enough approximation. The land is low, with a single hill, showing round from the westward, flat or wedge-shaped from the eastward. The smaller Solombo is low: both wooded.

“10th.—In sight of Laurots islands.

“11th.—In the evening stood within four miles of the southern island of Laurots. These islands are high and steep, covered with wood, and uninhabited. The easternmost island seems, by bearings, badly laid down, being not far enough to the southward and eastward. The southern island is called by the Bugis, Mata Siri; the eastern, Kadapangan; the northern one, Kalambow. A few rocks and islets lay off them; water deep, and apparently clear of all danger.

“15th.—Turatte Bay. After experiencing continued calms and light winds, and falling short of water, we at length reached this bay, and anchored in 7½ fathoms. The first impression of Celebes is highly favorable. The mountains present a bold outline, and rise in confused masses, until crowned by what is commonly calledBonthian Hill. The sides of the mountains slope gradually to the sea, and present an inviting and diversified aspect of wood and cleared land. I dispatched a boat for water to a small village; and the crew were well received by the natives, after they became assured that they were not pirates.

“The outline of this bay, in Norieʼs chart, is not badly laid down; but on either side there is great room for improvement and survey. Turatte Bay may be fairly so called, as the district (ornegri) generally bears that name. The larboard point of Turatte Bay (approaching) is called Malăsaro, which comes next to Tanjong Layken in the charts. The starboard point is Tanjong Uju Loke, and from Uju Loke the land runs low to the point of Galumpang, the entrance of a river marked in the charts. From Uju Loke (named Bolo Bolo in Norieʼs chart) the coast-line runs for 12 or 15 miles to Bolo Bolo, which space is entirely omitted. Bolo Bolo forms the entrance of Bonthian Bay.

“16th.—Bonthian Bay. Called Banthi by the natives: is in lat. 5° 37′S.; long. 119° 33′E.

“The bay is pretty well laid down by Dalrymple. The small Dutch fort, or intrenchment, stands rather on the eastern bight of the bay, and is composed of a few huts, surrounded by a ditch and green bank. Two guns at each corner compose its strength, and the garrison consists of about thirty Dutchmen and a few Javanese soldiers. We were cordially and hospitably received by the officers, and, after a great deal of trouble and many excuses, here procured horses to carry us to the waterfall. Bonthian Hill is immediately over this place; a flat space of rice-ground, some miles in extent, only intervening. The hill (so called) may with more propriety be designated as a range of mountains, which here attain their utmost height and sink down gradually almost across the peninsula. The view is most attractive;the green and refreshing rice-grounds in the front and behind, the slopes of the mountain and its various peaks, verdant grass, wooded chasms, and all the inequalities which mark a mountain region. I am very anxious to mount to the summit; but so many difficulties are thrown in the way, that I almost despair—horses and guides are not to be procured. The Dutch say the natives are lazy: the natives say they dare not go without authority—either way we are the losers; but the officers certainly exert themselves in our favor. Coming into this bay, there is some difficulty in distinguishing the fort; but coming from the westward, its position may readily be known by steering for two lumps on the S.E. declivity of the mountain.

“18th.—Got ashore by seven oʼclock to start for the waterfall; till nine we were detained by want of horses, but after much trouble the animals were procured, and off we started. Our party consisted of three doctors (him of the fortification, a German gentleman, Treacher, and Theylingen) and myself, with native guides. The road lay for a short way along the beach, then struck into the thicket, and we commenced a gradual ascent. The scenery was most striking and lovely; glades and glens, grassy knolls and slopes, with scattered trees, and the voice of a hidden river which reached our ears from a deep valley on the left hand. Proceeding thus for some distance, we at length plunged into the wood, and descending a short space, found ourselves by the sides of the stream below the waterfall. Here, breakfast being finished, we all stripped to our trowsers, entered the water, and advanced along the bed of the river to the fall. The banks on either hand, steep and woody, prevented any other mode of approach, and the stream, rushing down and falling over huge rocks, rendered the only available one any thing but easy. At times we were up to the arms, then crawling out and stealing with care over wet and slippery stones, now taking advantage of a few yards of dry ground, and ever and anon swimming a pool to shorten an unpleasant climb. In this manner we advanced about half a mile, when the fall became visible; thick trees and hanging creepers intervened; between and through the foliage we first saw the water glancingand shining in its descent. The effect was perfect. After some little further and more difficult progress, we stood beneath the fall, of about 150 feet sheer descent. The wind whirled in eddies, and carried the sleet over us, chilling our bodies, but unable to damp our admiration. The basin of the fall is part of a circle, with the outlet forming a funnel; bare cliffs, perpendicular on all sides, form the upper portion of the vale, and above and below is all the luxuriant vegetation of the East; trees, arched and interlaced, and throwing down long fantastic roots and creepers, shade the scene, and form one of the richest sylvan prospects I have ever beheld. The water, foaming and flashing, and then escaping amid huge gray stones on its troubled course—clear and transparent, expanding into tranquil pools, with the flickering sunshine through the dense foliage—all combine to form at scene such as Tasso has described.3

“Inferior in body of water to many falls in Switzerland, it is superior to any in sylvan beauty; its deep seclusion, its undisturbed solitude, and the difficulty of access, combine to heighten its charms to the imagination. Our descent was like our upward progress. Having again dressed ourselves, we rested for a time, and then started for Bonthian—wearing away the rest of the day shooting amid the hills. Theylingen and myself procured many specimens, and returned laden with our spoil, and charmed with our dayʼs excursion. The waterfall is called Sapo, from the neighboring green peak of that name. The height of our resting-place (not the highest point of the dayʼs ascent) was 750.5 feet, by Newmanʼs two barometers; yet this is the bottom of the mountain on its western slope. The officers dined with us; they are very polite and kind; and we retired early to rest, all the better for our excursion.

“19th.—At 6 A.M. went with the Dutch officers shooting, and reached the same stream which forms the waterfall. The scenery delightful; water cool, and pleasant for bathing, a luxury I enjoyed in high perfection. Aboard again to a late breakfast.”

1Western as regards Polynesia.2Also, vol. iv. of theBengal Asiatic Researches.3Canto xv., stanza 55, 56.

1Western as regards Polynesia.

2Also, vol. iv. of theBengal Asiatic Researches.

3Canto xv., stanza 55, 56.

CHAPTER VI.Dain Matara, the Bugis,—Excursions in Celebes.—Dispute with the Rajahʼs son-in-law.—Baboon shot.—Appearance of the country.—Visit the Resident.—Barometrical observations.—The Bugis.—Geography.—Coral reefs.—Visit the Rana of Lamatte.—Population and products of the country.“I may here, indulge in a brief episode to introduce my Bugis companion, Dain Matara,—which properly I should have done long since,—a man well born, and, for his country, affluent and educated: he offered at Singapore, to accompany me on this expedition, refusing all pay or remuneration, and stating that the good name to be acquired, and the pleasure of seeing different places, would recompense, him. At first, I must own this disinterestedness rendered me suspicious; but conceiving that the greatest utility might accrue from his assistance, I agreed to take him with his servant. Our long passage seemed to make us well acquainted, and, I believe, raised a mutual confidence. Dain, cheerful, good-tempered, and intelligent, gained daily on my esteem; and, by the time we reached Bonthian, I was rejoiced that he accompanied me.“On this day we succeeded in procuring horses and guides for thehill, as it is called.“20th.—By 8 A.M. our preparations were complete, and we mounted our horses; a motley group we formed, composed of Treacher, Theylingen, and myself, two seamen (Spence and Balls), Dain Matara, a son-in-law of the Bonthian Rajah, and six footmen. Provisions for four days were on one of the horses, and a goodly stock of fowling-pieces, beside my mountain barometer. The plain was soon cleared; and three hoursʼ ride by a good horse-path brought us to the village of Senua, consisting of a dozen houses. We found the inhabitants hospitable, and took refuge from a heavy squall of wind and rain in the best house the place afforded. During the rain the thermometer sunk to 76°, but rose directly afterward. At half-past one the rain cleared away, but we were detained until three by the Bugis getting their dinner. During this time I strayed along the sparklingstream which runs by the village, and after enjoying a bathe, called to horse, in order to proceed. Great was my surprise, however, to be told by the rajahʼs son-in-law that he supposed we were going back. A discussion arose,—he declaring there was no road for the horses, and that we could not go farther; while I insisted, if he would not advance, I should continue my journey on foot. After much time had been lost, our guide set off slowly and reluctantly, and we proceeded for two or three miles, when, finding our head turned to the southward, and the road descending, I again called a halt, and was once more told it was not possible to mount farther. A scheme had been formed to lead us round about, and take us gradually down, until too late to mount again. A long parley ensued; both parties seemed resolute; and it finished by our unloading the baggage-horse, and making a small parcel of necessaries to carry on foot. Our guide, however, never intended matters to go so far, and we finished at last by taking half the horses, and allowing him (the rajahʼs son-in-law) to descend with the rest. This being done, we had to retrace our road nearly to Senua; and a little before sunset our party crossed an awkward stream, and struck into the path up the mountains.“A short walk brought us to Lengan Lengang about dusk, where we put up for the night. For the first time, this day I saw the cockatoo in his wild state; I was within easy shot of two of them, but the stream lay between us, and I felt some compunction at shooting these favorite birds.“Lourikeets were in great plenty, and many varieties of pigeons and doves, beside other birds. Near Lengan Lengang we encountered a community of dusky baboons, many of them very large and powerful: after a hard scramble I got within shot of them; on my firing the first barrel, the young ones and females made off, but the leaders of the band disdained to retreat, and, with threatening gestures and grimaces, covered the retreat of their party. The consequence was, I sacrificed one of these heroes, of a large size: he fell from the branch on which he was seated into a deep valley, and his fall completed the rout of the rest. Spence, in the meantime, having arrived, I dispatched him to secure the prize; but at the bottom of the valley the baboons again showed themselves, and manifested every inclination to fall on him; another barrel put them to flight, and between us we dragged the fallen hero to the horses.“The village of Lengan Lengang consists of about a dozen houses, is situated in a nook of the hills, and surrounded by cocoanut-trees. We were accommodated in the principal house, and treated with every hospitality. The people of the hills are poor, though their land is fertile, and produces abundance of rice and Indian corn. Theft is said to be common, especially of horses, and the care of the horses belonging to travelers devolves on the villagers; for, in case a horse is stolen, a fine is imposed on the population in general. To prevent this misfortune, our hosts kept playing, as long as we could bear it, on an instrument like a clarinet; but at twelve oʼclock, after trying in vain to sleep, we were obliged to stop the noise and risk the horses.“This instrument is about three feet long, with five or six holes, and a flat mouthpiece on the cane-tube; the sound is musical when gently breathed into, but in their usual mode of playing, it emits frightful shrieks. During the night the thermometer sunk to 69°, and we were glad of our blankets.“21st.—Rose between five and six. Took some barometrical observations, and at half-past six continued our upward way. As far as Lengan Lengang the country presents beautiful woodland and mountain scenery, with luxuriant vegetation, thickly wooded valleys, and sparkling streams. The flats and valleys are occupied by rice-grounds, and the pasturage is of the very finest description for all sorts of cattle: the grass short and rich. Lengan Lengang is the last point where the cocoanut or other palms is seen; but there it grows remarkably well, and attains a great height. Above this point the wood, generally speaking, becomes smaller, and the vegetation more coarse, the hills being covered with a rank high grass, and ferns, similar to those in England. Three hoursʼ slow traveling brought us to the village of Lokar, situated at the foot of the peak of that name. I mounted, while breakfast waspreparing, nearly to the top, and up to the belt of thick wood which surrounds the last 100 or 150 feet. Observations were repeated here, showing a great fall of the mercury, and afterward taken at the village. Lokar consists of a few scattered huts, situated amid gardens of fruit and vegetables: the mango, the guava, the jack, and the plantain, with cabbages and Indian corn, compose the stock of the inhabitants; the latter constitutes their principal food, and is granaried for use in large quantities, not only in the house, but on frameworks of bamboo without, on which it is thickly hung in rows, with the head downward, to protect it from the weather. The highest summit, called Lumpu Balong, was visible when we first arrived, some miles in advance: at breakfast-time the clouds entirely covered it, and rolled down upon Lokar in heavy rain, driving us into a miserable hut for shelter.“During the rain the thermometer fell to 70°. At 3 P.M. started for some huts we saw at the foot of Lumpu Balong, having first sent our horses back to Lengan Lengang, being assured their farther progress was impracticable. When, however, our guide from Lokar understood our intention of reaching Lumpu Balong, he objected to proceed, on the plea that the village in advance was inhabited by people from Turatte. We managed to coax him on, and, after two and a half hoursʼ walk, reached Parontalas. The country, ascending gradually, becomes more and more wild; the wood stunted; and the streams, finding their way through masses of rock, leave strong traces of their occasional violence. Parontalas stands on the edge of the forest which skirts Lumpu Balong, from which it has not long been retrieved. It consists of a few scattered huts, far apart. Potatoes, tobacco, and coffee are grown here, the former in great abundance. Like the rest of the people, their food consists of Indian corn; and, as in the other villages, they breed horses. Our host of Parontalas was very polite, and gave us some fowls and the accommodation of his house; the latter, indeed, was needful, for we were all badly provided with covering, and the mountain air was raw and cold. To our request for guides to ascend the mountainhe replied, that it was necessary to consult the head man of the district, who lived some little distance off. In the interim we made ourselves very happy, determined to ascend with or without a guide or guides. We lay down at nine, in order to be ready for the morningʼs work, the thermometer standing at 59° in the house.“22d.—At five, when we rose, the thermometer stood at 56° in the air. The head man had arrived, and willingly gave us guides, warning us only of the difficulty of the ascent. Nothing could exceed the kindness and attention of this simple old man. He remembered the time the English had the country, and spoke of his peopleʼs respect for our nation, and their regret that we had left the country. At 6 A.M. we started, and, after walking about a mile, plunged into the belt of forest which environs Lumpu Balong. From six till half-past two, we were alternately ascending and descending, scrambling over rocks or fallen timber, or cutting a path through the most tangled thicket that ever tore the wayfarer. To add to our difficulty, during the latter half of the ascent, we could procure no water, which caused us considerable suffering. At length, however, we stood at the summit of Lumpu Balong, and looked, on either side, over a vast sea of fleecy clouds which rolled beneath. The top is a narrow ridge, covered with stunted trees and luxuriant moss; and a second peak to the westward, of rather less elevation, is separated from it by a declivity. I climbed to the top of a tree to look along the mountain, and make certain that we were at the highest point; and having convinced myself of this, I proceeded with the barometric observations, which were concluded by 3 P.M.; for it was highly necessary to get down before night overtook us in the dreary and inhospitable forest. Our thirst, too, was tormenting, and increased by hearing the fall of a torrent deep in the valley to the northward.“As far as I could observe, the northern face of the mountain was perpendicular, and the ascent on that side would have been attended with greater difficulty than from the point we chose. Our way down was easier,and the descent was made as expeditiously as the nature of the ground would allow. Having fairly worn our shoes off our feet, we were pierced by brambles and thorns in a cruel manner. Our guide, in going down, discovered a tree with a bee-hive in it containing great store of honey. The Bugis instantly attacked the tree, on seeing which my first impression was, that it would be prudent to retreat to a distance; but their composure induced me to remain; and, to my surprise, when the tree was laid open, the honey was taken out in large quantities, and the bees brushed off the comb without offering to sting. Though flying round about us, and on the hands of all the people, they were quite innocent of harm; and I conclude, therefore, they were different from the common honey-bee. The honey was excellent, and refreshed us for a few minutes, but ultimately only added to our thirst. At length, about five, we reached a stream of water, and quenched our thirst with draughts of the coolest and most limpid mountain stream. The Bugis, though, like ourselves, they had been, without any water from nine oʼclock in the morning till five in the evening, refused to drink, alleging that it was highly injurious after eating honey! Glad were we, just at dark, to get clear of the forest; and a short walk farther brought us to our temporary dwelling. We were much knocked up, and very much torn with the thorns. A brief dinner and a delicious cigar, and we lay down to sleep—not even incommoded by the cold, which kept us awake the last night.“23d.—Having, through mistake, forgotten to bring up any money, I had no means of repaying the obligations received from these simple hill-people exceptby promises. My old friend ordered the guide of yesterday to accompany us to the plains, to receive his own payment, and to bring some things, for others, up there. At ten we hobbled forth, very foot-sore, and lacking proper covering for our feet. The prospect of four or five hoursʼ walk to Lengan Lengang was very unpleasant; and in proportion to our expected pain was our gratification on meetingallour horses within three miles of Parontalas—allthe horses, which all the men swore could not, by any possibility, ascend, were there;and though without saddles and bridles, or the Bugis, we were too glad to mount. We went down by another road. Four hours brought us to Lengan Lengang, where we rested for two hours, and, remounting, reached Bonthian at about seven oʼclock in the evening. Thus concluded this interesting excursion into a hill-region, where we attained the summit of Lumpu Balong, never before reached by European. The Dutch officers informed me that three successive residents of Bonthian had attempted it and failed.“Before I conclude, I may take a brief survey of the country. The hills are generally rounded or flat at top, and not offering any rugged or broken peaks. The scenery about Senua and Lengan Lengang is the perfection of woodland, with the picturesque characteristics of a mountain region; the climate admirably suited, thence to the summit, for Europeans, and capable of producing most European and tropical plants to perfection. Coffee plantations on these hills might be undertaken with certainty of success, and there is much in the character of the natives which would facilitate the operation. To the westward of Lokar, and somewhat lower, is a fine extensive plain, which we just skirted coming down; it was cultivated in every part, apparently with rice. The vegetable productions of the hills I have briefly mentioned; but I may add that the wild raspberry was found, and that wild guavas grow in the greatest abundance, as well as oranges and grapes.“The animal kingdom, of course, we had no time to examine; but the babi rupa is said to be found in the higher regions; and in the forest, toward the summit of Lumpu Balong, we saw the dung of wild cattle, which, I am told, are a species of urus. The birds we saw were, paroquets of two sorts, viz., the lourikeet and a small green paroquet; a large green pigeon, specimens of which we got; the cream-colored pigeon of Borneo, beside many others.“The geological formation of the region I must leave to others. I brought down some specimens of the rocks and loose stones, which are, I believe, pummice; if so, I presume the formation volcanic, similar to Java.“24th.—Called on the resident, and saw the rajah.“25th.—Christmas, with his jolly nose and icy hands. Here it is hot enough! Were I to live in this country, I should retire for the season up in the mountains. Dined with the Resident of Bonthian; by no means surprised that he and his congeners had failed in their attempt to climb the mountain: the resident is a native! In the evening, celebrated the day with all sorts of sports.“26th.—Mid-day, quitted Bonthian, and ran to Boele Comba or Compa.“27th.—I have little to say of Boele Comba. It is situated in the bight of the bay, eastward of Bonthian. There appears to be much, confusion an Horsburghʼs Directory about the latitude and longitude, and the hill called after the place. This hill is the last of the mountain-range, somewhat detached, covered with wood, of moderate elevation, and peaked. From our anchorage, two miles from the fort, it bore N.N.W. The fort is similar to the one at Bonthian, the country pretty, and nearly level. The Bonthian mountains (i. e.Lumpu Balong and the range) show steep and well in the background. Game abounds, by report. Europeans are subject to complaints of the eyes, and occasionally to fever. Any vessel running in should be very careful, for the charts are defective, and Boele Comba reef is said to project farther to the westward of the fort than laid down.“I here subjoin a list of our barometric observations, the upper barometer reduced to the rate of the lower and standard one:—Senua, 20th December, 1839.Bar.A.D.1.30.05486873h15mP.M.2.28.3857980Lengan Lengang, 21st December.Bar.A. D.1.30.1197978.56h30mA.M.2.27.9887069.56h0m”Lokar Peak, 21st December, 100 feet below summit.Bar.A.D.1.30.095909010h30mA.M.2.25.9757979Hill on the way to Lumpu Balong, 22d December.Bar.A.D.1.30.1449090Mean between 8hand noon.2.23.612 ...6665.510h40mA.M.Lumpu Balong Peak, 22d December.Bar.A.D.1.30.14689.590.52h0mP.M.2.23.7186463.52h30m”28th.—Leaving Boele Comba after breakfast, we shaped our course for Point Berak.“With the richest country, the natives of these places are poor, and they bear no good-will to their rulers. It is likewise certain that few active measures are resorted to for forwarding the development of the native character and local resources. The resident is a Macassar-born native, and this fact alone speaks volumes for the mode and manner of government. The people of the country I found a kind and simple race; and though they are accused of pride and laziness by their masters, I could not, circumstances taken into consideration, discover any trace, of the latter vice, and the former I can readily forgive them. That the Bugis are not an indolent race is well proved by their whole conduct, wherever circumstances offer any inducement to exertion. Even here, the cleared country and the neat cultivation prove them far otherwise; and traces are visible everywhere on the mountains of their having been more highly cultivated than at present. Coffee plantations once flourished, and being destroyed during a war, years ago, have never been renewed. Inclosures and partition walls in decay are very frequent, marking the former boundary of cultivation. That they are independent enough to be proud, I honor them for! The officers allowed they were courageous, and one designated them as ‘fier comme un Espagnol;’ and, on the whole, no doubt exists in my mind that they are people easily to be roused to exertion, either agricultural or commercial; their sullen and repulsive manners toward their masters rather indicating a dislike to their sway, and the idleness complained of only proving that the profits of labor are lower than they ought to be.“Nothing so strongly marks the degradation of a race or nation as a cheerful acquiescence under a foreign rule. The more virtuous, the more civilized, the more educated a people, the more turbulent, indolent, and sullen, when reduced to a state of subjection; the fewer qualities will they have to please their masters, when foreign rule is oppressive, or looks solely to the advantage of the country of the conquerors, and not of the conquered. There is no race will willingly submit: the bayonet and the sword, the gallows and the whip, imprisonment and confiscation, must be constantly at work to keep them under.“Leaving Boele Comba, as I before said, we shaped our course for Tanjong Berak, passing between that point and the north island. The passage is excellent, clear of all danger, as far as we could see, with deep water. The rocks reported to exist by Horsburgh, and put down on Norieʼs chart, have no existence. The Bugis prahus always use this channel, and know them not; and the captain of a Dutch cruiser informed me that he had often run through the passage at night, and that it was clear of all danger or obstruction.“My own observation went to verify the fact, for every part of the passage appears deep and clear, and we passed over the spots where these rocks are marked. Approaching Tanjong Berak, there is a sandy beach, where a vessel may get anchorage in case the wind dies away. The tides in the channel are strong; here, and along the south coast, the ebb runs from the eastward, the flood from the west. Having cleared the channel, we hauled into the Bay of Boni, which, although running in a north and south direction, has some headlands extending to the eastward. There are two places marked on the chart, viz. Berak and Tĭero; but these, instead of being towns or villages, are names of districts; the first, reaching from Tanjong Berak, about 15 miles, till it joins Tĭero; Tĭero, extending from the northern confine of Berak to Tanjong Labu, 15 miles in all. To the northward and eastward is a high island called Balunrueh. From Tanjong Berak the water along the coast is very deep; no soundings with 50 fathoms. Toward evening we went into Tĭero Bay, a pretty secludedspot. The southern part of the bay is foul, having a reef visible at low water, The northern headland has a spit running from it, with 14 fathom half a mile (or little more) off. Within the bay there is no bottom with 50 fathom till near its northern extremity, where the water shoals suddenly. Running in, in a squall, we got into 3¼ fathom, where we anchored. This country belongs to the Dutch as far as Point Labu.“29th.—Calm all day. Sounded the bay: the southern point has a steep coral reef nearly a quarter of a mile off. The southern part of the bay is inclosed by a reef, part of which seems to me artificial, for the purpose of catching fish, and is shallow: outside the reef the water is deep dose to. The western shore is lined by a reef close to it, and the water is deep. The center part of the bay is very deep; and within 100 yards of where we lay we got no bottom at 17 fathoms. The next cast was 6, and the next 3 fathoms—hard clay bottom. A small river discharges itself, in the northern part, inside the anchorage: there is a considerable depth within, but the bar is shallow. The scenery on the river is beautiful; wild at first, and gradually becoming undulating and cultivated. Birds are plenty: cockatoos abound, of which I shot two. This part of the country possesses considerable geological interest: the hills round the bay are of slight elevation; and 80 or 100 feet from the sea level are large masses of coral rock, upheaved by some convulsion.“30th.—Under weigh. Brought up in 23 fathoms, amid the coral shoals.“31st.—Visited the island of Balunrueh for sights.“Tanjong Labu is bluff and bold, and of moderate elevation. The land from thence trends away westward, forming a long bay, which, for distinction, may be called Labu Bay, at the N.W. part of which is the town of Songĭ, the principal place about here. Between Labu and Songĭ are the following countries: Kupi Kajang, Pakah, Buah, Kalaku, Baringan, and Magnarabunbang; each with a separate petty rajah. The country is moderately well cleared; about an average height, near the shore, of 300 feet; with few habitations about, but no towns or villages. The mountainrange throws a spur downward to the sea in the vicinity of Songĭ and the fine peaks of Lumpu Balong; and Wawa Karang, with theconfusionof mountains, form a magnificent background to the prospect. From Magnarabunbang the land runs away to the eastward toward Tanjong Salanketo, which must be described on a future occasion. In the offing are several islands and numerous reefs. The principal island is Balunrueh, 400 or 500 feet high; bold, steep, and covered with trees, except at its northern extremity; where it is low, with a sandy point. Off this north point runs a coral reef; direction 354°, and extent about two miles. At the S.W. angle of the island there is likewise a reef stretching half a mile; and the shores all round, for a short distance, are lined with coral, outside of which the water is apparently very deep. We could get no soundings with a hand lead, half a mile to the westward.“Off Balunrueh, to the S.E., is the islet of Liang Liang; next to Liang Liang, Tanbunoh, which is larger; then Cadingareh Batantampeh (the largest), Cotingduan Lariahriah, and two islands to the northward called Canallo. Balunrueh and Batantampeh have both indifferent fresh water; the former near the low point at the north end. From the S.W. end of Liang Liang a reef runs out. The bearing, from the small hill, over the watering place of Balunrueh, was 77°. The reef extends to 104°, and stretches to the southward beside: near Liang Liang it is narrow. Its limits I could not define.“Between Liang Liang and Tanbunoh a narrow reef, and spits from most of the islands. Two patches lay off Balunrueh about two miles and a half: the first, bearing 319°, is narrow, and about half a mile long; the other smaller, and bearing 287°. Part of the day we passed on Balunrueh was very hot; but we got satisfactory sights, and sailed round the island, returning to the vessel about six in the evening.“I must now return to Labu, to give some account of the channel between the reefs; as, from the appearance of the charts, it would seem impossible to navigate the western side of the bay. Having passed Tanjong Labuat a distance of 3½ or 4 miles, get the flat-topped hill called Bulu Tanna ahead. Close to the Bulu Tanna, in the foreground, is another smaller hill, with two remarkable tufts on the top: this hill, just open to the eastward of Bulu Tanna, is the leading mark for Songĭ, which stands to the westward. This mark will lead clear, or very nearly so, of all the reefs; but as there is uncertainty in the distance from Tanjong Labu, it may be necessary to diverge from the straight course in order to avoid some of the patches. In the daytime the coral is seen with the greatest ease; and a vessel with a lookout aloft, and a breeze, may proceed with safely. The first reef is on the starboard hand; part was dry, and shoal-water about. This first patch is in the proximity of the great reef called Melompereh, which runs to the eastward. Beside these, the channel is occasionally lined by patches on either hand; but is nowhere narrower than a mile and a half, and is anything but difficult navigation, so far, in clear weather.“Jan. 4th, 1840.—Arrived off Songĭ on the 1st, and dispatched a boat to the old Rajah, or Rana, of Lamatte. Our answer was, that not, having been to Boni, she feared receiving us, as she felt inclined; but if we would come to her house, she should be glad to see us. On the following day, accordingly, we paid our visit at her residence, which is situated about four miles up the river Tanca.“The old lady is about sixty-five years of age, and (as she herself informed us) very poor. Her house, indeed, bears every mark of great poverty; having a leaky roof, and not sufficient matting to cover the bamboo floors. She was kind, and seemed pleased to see us; said I should henceforward be her son, and that nothing but her fear of the Boni Rajah prevented her receiving me in the best way in her power; but pointing to the roof and to the floor, she repeated, ‘I have nothing.’ I presented her with such articles as I thought would be acceptable to her; and, in return, she gave me a sarong.“The population of the country is considerable. The last district I mentioned was Magnarabunbang. The town of that name, on the sea-side, consists of forty-fivehouses, beside a roving population of Badjows. Along the coast to the eastward, and close to Magnarabunbang, is the river of Songĭ. Proceeding up this shallow river, the first village is Tacolompeh, situated on the right bank, and consisting of twenty houses; nearly opposite the village of Pangassa, of thirteen houses; and farther up, about four miles from the riverʼs mouth, stands Songĭ, consisting of 164 houses on the right bank, and 60 on the left. These places are all on the low ground, and surrounded with cocoanut-trees.“Joining the district of Magnarabunbang, on the coast, is Lamatte, the rajanate of our old friend. The river, like the Songĭ, is shallow, and running through very low ground. On the left bank is Luppa, consisting of twenty-five houses; then, on the right, Ulo, twenty-two houses; and above Ulo comes Ulluē, of twelve houses. Nearly opposite Ulluē is Balammepa, with thirty houses, superior to the others, and inhabited by merchants who have made money in trading voyages. This village sends yearly two prahus to Singapore. Just above Ulluē stand seven houses; and above Balammepa is Tanca, the residence of the Rajah of Lamatte, consisting of ten houses. The streams, as I have said, are shallow, and the ground low, neatly cultivated with Indian corn, and abounding in cocoanut-trees. Behind Magnarabunbang there is a narrow strip of low ground, which becomes wider as it advances to the eastward, with here and there moderate elevations.“The chief product of the country is coffee, which is grown in great quantities on the hills, but brought down as it ripens, when it is collected by the Bugis merchants for their yearly shipments. The yearly produce is stated to be 2000 coyans or 80,000 peculs. The price is from fifteen to sixteen Java rupees the pecul; to which must be added the trouble and expense of storing and clearing from the inner skin. Tortoise-shell is brought in by the Badjows; and mother-of-pearl shells in any quantity there is demand for. Taking the number of houses in this small space, above described, the total will be 308 houses, which reckoned at the low estimate of eight persons for each house, will give 2464 inhabitants; this, however, is far below the proper estimate,as there are villages scattered between the rivers, and numbers of detached houses; in all, therefore, safely computed at 5000 persons.The villages, with the exception of Balammepa, have an aspect of poverty, and the country is ravaged by that frightful scourge the small-pox, and likewise some cases apparently of cholera, from the account given of the complaint. Near the hill of Bulu Tanna there is a hot spring, and likewise, by the report of the natives, some slight remains of an old building. I regretted much not seeing these; but the natives, with much politeness, begged me not to go previous to my visit to Boni, as they would be answerable for allowing strangers to see the country without orders from the chief rajah. All I see and hear convinces me that the Rajah of Boni has great power over the entire country. On a friendly communication with him, therefore, depends our chance of seeing something of the interior.“The inhabitants here are polite, but shy and reserved: and the death of the Rana of Songĭ and the absence of the Rajah Mooda, her reported successor, have been against us.“5th.—Sailing from Songĭ about 4P.M., we directed our course for Tanjong Salanketo. The breeze was stiff, which caused us to use considerable precaution in sailing among the shoals. Assisted by a native Nacòdah, by name Dain Pativi, we were enabled to keep the tortuous channel, of which otherwise we should have been ignorant. A little farther than the Tanca river is a shoal stretching from the shore, to avoid which we kept Canallo on our lee bow: this being cleared, we gradually luffed up, ran between two shoals, and passed several others.”

Dain Matara, the Bugis,—Excursions in Celebes.—Dispute with the Rajahʼs son-in-law.—Baboon shot.—Appearance of the country.—Visit the Resident.—Barometrical observations.—The Bugis.—Geography.—Coral reefs.—Visit the Rana of Lamatte.—Population and products of the country.

Dain Matara, the Bugis,—Excursions in Celebes.—Dispute with the Rajahʼs son-in-law.—Baboon shot.—Appearance of the country.—Visit the Resident.—Barometrical observations.—The Bugis.—Geography.—Coral reefs.—Visit the Rana of Lamatte.—Population and products of the country.

“I may here, indulge in a brief episode to introduce my Bugis companion, Dain Matara,—which properly I should have done long since,—a man well born, and, for his country, affluent and educated: he offered at Singapore, to accompany me on this expedition, refusing all pay or remuneration, and stating that the good name to be acquired, and the pleasure of seeing different places, would recompense, him. At first, I must own this disinterestedness rendered me suspicious; but conceiving that the greatest utility might accrue from his assistance, I agreed to take him with his servant. Our long passage seemed to make us well acquainted, and, I believe, raised a mutual confidence. Dain, cheerful, good-tempered, and intelligent, gained daily on my esteem; and, by the time we reached Bonthian, I was rejoiced that he accompanied me.

“On this day we succeeded in procuring horses and guides for thehill, as it is called.

“20th.—By 8 A.M. our preparations were complete, and we mounted our horses; a motley group we formed, composed of Treacher, Theylingen, and myself, two seamen (Spence and Balls), Dain Matara, a son-in-law of the Bonthian Rajah, and six footmen. Provisions for four days were on one of the horses, and a goodly stock of fowling-pieces, beside my mountain barometer. The plain was soon cleared; and three hoursʼ ride by a good horse-path brought us to the village of Senua, consisting of a dozen houses. We found the inhabitants hospitable, and took refuge from a heavy squall of wind and rain in the best house the place afforded. During the rain the thermometer sunk to 76°, but rose directly afterward. At half-past one the rain cleared away, but we were detained until three by the Bugis getting their dinner. During this time I strayed along the sparklingstream which runs by the village, and after enjoying a bathe, called to horse, in order to proceed. Great was my surprise, however, to be told by the rajahʼs son-in-law that he supposed we were going back. A discussion arose,—he declaring there was no road for the horses, and that we could not go farther; while I insisted, if he would not advance, I should continue my journey on foot. After much time had been lost, our guide set off slowly and reluctantly, and we proceeded for two or three miles, when, finding our head turned to the southward, and the road descending, I again called a halt, and was once more told it was not possible to mount farther. A scheme had been formed to lead us round about, and take us gradually down, until too late to mount again. A long parley ensued; both parties seemed resolute; and it finished by our unloading the baggage-horse, and making a small parcel of necessaries to carry on foot. Our guide, however, never intended matters to go so far, and we finished at last by taking half the horses, and allowing him (the rajahʼs son-in-law) to descend with the rest. This being done, we had to retrace our road nearly to Senua; and a little before sunset our party crossed an awkward stream, and struck into the path up the mountains.

“A short walk brought us to Lengan Lengang about dusk, where we put up for the night. For the first time, this day I saw the cockatoo in his wild state; I was within easy shot of two of them, but the stream lay between us, and I felt some compunction at shooting these favorite birds.

“Lourikeets were in great plenty, and many varieties of pigeons and doves, beside other birds. Near Lengan Lengang we encountered a community of dusky baboons, many of them very large and powerful: after a hard scramble I got within shot of them; on my firing the first barrel, the young ones and females made off, but the leaders of the band disdained to retreat, and, with threatening gestures and grimaces, covered the retreat of their party. The consequence was, I sacrificed one of these heroes, of a large size: he fell from the branch on which he was seated into a deep valley, and his fall completed the rout of the rest. Spence, in the meantime, having arrived, I dispatched him to secure the prize; but at the bottom of the valley the baboons again showed themselves, and manifested every inclination to fall on him; another barrel put them to flight, and between us we dragged the fallen hero to the horses.

“The village of Lengan Lengang consists of about a dozen houses, is situated in a nook of the hills, and surrounded by cocoanut-trees. We were accommodated in the principal house, and treated with every hospitality. The people of the hills are poor, though their land is fertile, and produces abundance of rice and Indian corn. Theft is said to be common, especially of horses, and the care of the horses belonging to travelers devolves on the villagers; for, in case a horse is stolen, a fine is imposed on the population in general. To prevent this misfortune, our hosts kept playing, as long as we could bear it, on an instrument like a clarinet; but at twelve oʼclock, after trying in vain to sleep, we were obliged to stop the noise and risk the horses.

“This instrument is about three feet long, with five or six holes, and a flat mouthpiece on the cane-tube; the sound is musical when gently breathed into, but in their usual mode of playing, it emits frightful shrieks. During the night the thermometer sunk to 69°, and we were glad of our blankets.

“21st.—Rose between five and six. Took some barometrical observations, and at half-past six continued our upward way. As far as Lengan Lengang the country presents beautiful woodland and mountain scenery, with luxuriant vegetation, thickly wooded valleys, and sparkling streams. The flats and valleys are occupied by rice-grounds, and the pasturage is of the very finest description for all sorts of cattle: the grass short and rich. Lengan Lengang is the last point where the cocoanut or other palms is seen; but there it grows remarkably well, and attains a great height. Above this point the wood, generally speaking, becomes smaller, and the vegetation more coarse, the hills being covered with a rank high grass, and ferns, similar to those in England. Three hoursʼ slow traveling brought us to the village of Lokar, situated at the foot of the peak of that name. I mounted, while breakfast waspreparing, nearly to the top, and up to the belt of thick wood which surrounds the last 100 or 150 feet. Observations were repeated here, showing a great fall of the mercury, and afterward taken at the village. Lokar consists of a few scattered huts, situated amid gardens of fruit and vegetables: the mango, the guava, the jack, and the plantain, with cabbages and Indian corn, compose the stock of the inhabitants; the latter constitutes their principal food, and is granaried for use in large quantities, not only in the house, but on frameworks of bamboo without, on which it is thickly hung in rows, with the head downward, to protect it from the weather. The highest summit, called Lumpu Balong, was visible when we first arrived, some miles in advance: at breakfast-time the clouds entirely covered it, and rolled down upon Lokar in heavy rain, driving us into a miserable hut for shelter.

“During the rain the thermometer fell to 70°. At 3 P.M. started for some huts we saw at the foot of Lumpu Balong, having first sent our horses back to Lengan Lengang, being assured their farther progress was impracticable. When, however, our guide from Lokar understood our intention of reaching Lumpu Balong, he objected to proceed, on the plea that the village in advance was inhabited by people from Turatte. We managed to coax him on, and, after two and a half hoursʼ walk, reached Parontalas. The country, ascending gradually, becomes more and more wild; the wood stunted; and the streams, finding their way through masses of rock, leave strong traces of their occasional violence. Parontalas stands on the edge of the forest which skirts Lumpu Balong, from which it has not long been retrieved. It consists of a few scattered huts, far apart. Potatoes, tobacco, and coffee are grown here, the former in great abundance. Like the rest of the people, their food consists of Indian corn; and, as in the other villages, they breed horses. Our host of Parontalas was very polite, and gave us some fowls and the accommodation of his house; the latter, indeed, was needful, for we were all badly provided with covering, and the mountain air was raw and cold. To our request for guides to ascend the mountainhe replied, that it was necessary to consult the head man of the district, who lived some little distance off. In the interim we made ourselves very happy, determined to ascend with or without a guide or guides. We lay down at nine, in order to be ready for the morningʼs work, the thermometer standing at 59° in the house.

“22d.—At five, when we rose, the thermometer stood at 56° in the air. The head man had arrived, and willingly gave us guides, warning us only of the difficulty of the ascent. Nothing could exceed the kindness and attention of this simple old man. He remembered the time the English had the country, and spoke of his peopleʼs respect for our nation, and their regret that we had left the country. At 6 A.M. we started, and, after walking about a mile, plunged into the belt of forest which environs Lumpu Balong. From six till half-past two, we were alternately ascending and descending, scrambling over rocks or fallen timber, or cutting a path through the most tangled thicket that ever tore the wayfarer. To add to our difficulty, during the latter half of the ascent, we could procure no water, which caused us considerable suffering. At length, however, we stood at the summit of Lumpu Balong, and looked, on either side, over a vast sea of fleecy clouds which rolled beneath. The top is a narrow ridge, covered with stunted trees and luxuriant moss; and a second peak to the westward, of rather less elevation, is separated from it by a declivity. I climbed to the top of a tree to look along the mountain, and make certain that we were at the highest point; and having convinced myself of this, I proceeded with the barometric observations, which were concluded by 3 P.M.; for it was highly necessary to get down before night overtook us in the dreary and inhospitable forest. Our thirst, too, was tormenting, and increased by hearing the fall of a torrent deep in the valley to the northward.

“As far as I could observe, the northern face of the mountain was perpendicular, and the ascent on that side would have been attended with greater difficulty than from the point we chose. Our way down was easier,and the descent was made as expeditiously as the nature of the ground would allow. Having fairly worn our shoes off our feet, we were pierced by brambles and thorns in a cruel manner. Our guide, in going down, discovered a tree with a bee-hive in it containing great store of honey. The Bugis instantly attacked the tree, on seeing which my first impression was, that it would be prudent to retreat to a distance; but their composure induced me to remain; and, to my surprise, when the tree was laid open, the honey was taken out in large quantities, and the bees brushed off the comb without offering to sting. Though flying round about us, and on the hands of all the people, they were quite innocent of harm; and I conclude, therefore, they were different from the common honey-bee. The honey was excellent, and refreshed us for a few minutes, but ultimately only added to our thirst. At length, about five, we reached a stream of water, and quenched our thirst with draughts of the coolest and most limpid mountain stream. The Bugis, though, like ourselves, they had been, without any water from nine oʼclock in the morning till five in the evening, refused to drink, alleging that it was highly injurious after eating honey! Glad were we, just at dark, to get clear of the forest; and a short walk farther brought us to our temporary dwelling. We were much knocked up, and very much torn with the thorns. A brief dinner and a delicious cigar, and we lay down to sleep—not even incommoded by the cold, which kept us awake the last night.

“23d.—Having, through mistake, forgotten to bring up any money, I had no means of repaying the obligations received from these simple hill-people exceptby promises. My old friend ordered the guide of yesterday to accompany us to the plains, to receive his own payment, and to bring some things, for others, up there. At ten we hobbled forth, very foot-sore, and lacking proper covering for our feet. The prospect of four or five hoursʼ walk to Lengan Lengang was very unpleasant; and in proportion to our expected pain was our gratification on meetingallour horses within three miles of Parontalas—allthe horses, which all the men swore could not, by any possibility, ascend, were there;and though without saddles and bridles, or the Bugis, we were too glad to mount. We went down by another road. Four hours brought us to Lengan Lengang, where we rested for two hours, and, remounting, reached Bonthian at about seven oʼclock in the evening. Thus concluded this interesting excursion into a hill-region, where we attained the summit of Lumpu Balong, never before reached by European. The Dutch officers informed me that three successive residents of Bonthian had attempted it and failed.

“Before I conclude, I may take a brief survey of the country. The hills are generally rounded or flat at top, and not offering any rugged or broken peaks. The scenery about Senua and Lengan Lengang is the perfection of woodland, with the picturesque characteristics of a mountain region; the climate admirably suited, thence to the summit, for Europeans, and capable of producing most European and tropical plants to perfection. Coffee plantations on these hills might be undertaken with certainty of success, and there is much in the character of the natives which would facilitate the operation. To the westward of Lokar, and somewhat lower, is a fine extensive plain, which we just skirted coming down; it was cultivated in every part, apparently with rice. The vegetable productions of the hills I have briefly mentioned; but I may add that the wild raspberry was found, and that wild guavas grow in the greatest abundance, as well as oranges and grapes.

“The animal kingdom, of course, we had no time to examine; but the babi rupa is said to be found in the higher regions; and in the forest, toward the summit of Lumpu Balong, we saw the dung of wild cattle, which, I am told, are a species of urus. The birds we saw were, paroquets of two sorts, viz., the lourikeet and a small green paroquet; a large green pigeon, specimens of which we got; the cream-colored pigeon of Borneo, beside many others.

“The geological formation of the region I must leave to others. I brought down some specimens of the rocks and loose stones, which are, I believe, pummice; if so, I presume the formation volcanic, similar to Java.

“24th.—Called on the resident, and saw the rajah.

“25th.—Christmas, with his jolly nose and icy hands. Here it is hot enough! Were I to live in this country, I should retire for the season up in the mountains. Dined with the Resident of Bonthian; by no means surprised that he and his congeners had failed in their attempt to climb the mountain: the resident is a native! In the evening, celebrated the day with all sorts of sports.

“26th.—Mid-day, quitted Bonthian, and ran to Boele Comba or Compa.

“27th.—I have little to say of Boele Comba. It is situated in the bight of the bay, eastward of Bonthian. There appears to be much, confusion an Horsburghʼs Directory about the latitude and longitude, and the hill called after the place. This hill is the last of the mountain-range, somewhat detached, covered with wood, of moderate elevation, and peaked. From our anchorage, two miles from the fort, it bore N.N.W. The fort is similar to the one at Bonthian, the country pretty, and nearly level. The Bonthian mountains (i. e.Lumpu Balong and the range) show steep and well in the background. Game abounds, by report. Europeans are subject to complaints of the eyes, and occasionally to fever. Any vessel running in should be very careful, for the charts are defective, and Boele Comba reef is said to project farther to the westward of the fort than laid down.

“I here subjoin a list of our barometric observations, the upper barometer reduced to the rate of the lower and standard one:—

Senua, 20th December, 1839.Bar.A.D.1.30.05486873h15mP.M.2.28.3857980Lengan Lengang, 21st December.Bar.A. D.1.30.1197978.56h30mA.M.2.27.9887069.56h0m”Lokar Peak, 21st December, 100 feet below summit.Bar.A.D.1.30.095909010h30mA.M.2.25.9757979Hill on the way to Lumpu Balong, 22d December.Bar.A.D.1.30.1449090Mean between 8hand noon.2.23.612 ...6665.510h40mA.M.Lumpu Balong Peak, 22d December.Bar.A.D.1.30.14689.590.52h0mP.M.2.23.7186463.52h30m”

Senua, 20th December, 1839.

Bar.A.D.1.30.05486873h15mP.M.2.28.3857980

Lengan Lengang, 21st December.

Bar.A. D.1.30.1197978.56h30mA.M.2.27.9887069.56h0m”

Lokar Peak, 21st December, 100 feet below summit.

Bar.A.D.1.30.095909010h30mA.M.2.25.9757979

Hill on the way to Lumpu Balong, 22d December.

Bar.A.D.1.30.1449090Mean between 8hand noon.2.23.612 ...6665.510h40mA.M.

Lumpu Balong Peak, 22d December.

Bar.A.D.1.30.14689.590.52h0mP.M.2.23.7186463.52h30m”

28th.—Leaving Boele Comba after breakfast, we shaped our course for Point Berak.

“With the richest country, the natives of these places are poor, and they bear no good-will to their rulers. It is likewise certain that few active measures are resorted to for forwarding the development of the native character and local resources. The resident is a Macassar-born native, and this fact alone speaks volumes for the mode and manner of government. The people of the country I found a kind and simple race; and though they are accused of pride and laziness by their masters, I could not, circumstances taken into consideration, discover any trace, of the latter vice, and the former I can readily forgive them. That the Bugis are not an indolent race is well proved by their whole conduct, wherever circumstances offer any inducement to exertion. Even here, the cleared country and the neat cultivation prove them far otherwise; and traces are visible everywhere on the mountains of their having been more highly cultivated than at present. Coffee plantations once flourished, and being destroyed during a war, years ago, have never been renewed. Inclosures and partition walls in decay are very frequent, marking the former boundary of cultivation. That they are independent enough to be proud, I honor them for! The officers allowed they were courageous, and one designated them as ‘fier comme un Espagnol;’ and, on the whole, no doubt exists in my mind that they are people easily to be roused to exertion, either agricultural or commercial; their sullen and repulsive manners toward their masters rather indicating a dislike to their sway, and the idleness complained of only proving that the profits of labor are lower than they ought to be.

“Nothing so strongly marks the degradation of a race or nation as a cheerful acquiescence under a foreign rule. The more virtuous, the more civilized, the more educated a people, the more turbulent, indolent, and sullen, when reduced to a state of subjection; the fewer qualities will they have to please their masters, when foreign rule is oppressive, or looks solely to the advantage of the country of the conquerors, and not of the conquered. There is no race will willingly submit: the bayonet and the sword, the gallows and the whip, imprisonment and confiscation, must be constantly at work to keep them under.

“Leaving Boele Comba, as I before said, we shaped our course for Tanjong Berak, passing between that point and the north island. The passage is excellent, clear of all danger, as far as we could see, with deep water. The rocks reported to exist by Horsburgh, and put down on Norieʼs chart, have no existence. The Bugis prahus always use this channel, and know them not; and the captain of a Dutch cruiser informed me that he had often run through the passage at night, and that it was clear of all danger or obstruction.

“My own observation went to verify the fact, for every part of the passage appears deep and clear, and we passed over the spots where these rocks are marked. Approaching Tanjong Berak, there is a sandy beach, where a vessel may get anchorage in case the wind dies away. The tides in the channel are strong; here, and along the south coast, the ebb runs from the eastward, the flood from the west. Having cleared the channel, we hauled into the Bay of Boni, which, although running in a north and south direction, has some headlands extending to the eastward. There are two places marked on the chart, viz. Berak and Tĭero; but these, instead of being towns or villages, are names of districts; the first, reaching from Tanjong Berak, about 15 miles, till it joins Tĭero; Tĭero, extending from the northern confine of Berak to Tanjong Labu, 15 miles in all. To the northward and eastward is a high island called Balunrueh. From Tanjong Berak the water along the coast is very deep; no soundings with 50 fathoms. Toward evening we went into Tĭero Bay, a pretty secludedspot. The southern part of the bay is foul, having a reef visible at low water, The northern headland has a spit running from it, with 14 fathom half a mile (or little more) off. Within the bay there is no bottom with 50 fathom till near its northern extremity, where the water shoals suddenly. Running in, in a squall, we got into 3¼ fathom, where we anchored. This country belongs to the Dutch as far as Point Labu.

“29th.—Calm all day. Sounded the bay: the southern point has a steep coral reef nearly a quarter of a mile off. The southern part of the bay is inclosed by a reef, part of which seems to me artificial, for the purpose of catching fish, and is shallow: outside the reef the water is deep dose to. The western shore is lined by a reef close to it, and the water is deep. The center part of the bay is very deep; and within 100 yards of where we lay we got no bottom at 17 fathoms. The next cast was 6, and the next 3 fathoms—hard clay bottom. A small river discharges itself, in the northern part, inside the anchorage: there is a considerable depth within, but the bar is shallow. The scenery on the river is beautiful; wild at first, and gradually becoming undulating and cultivated. Birds are plenty: cockatoos abound, of which I shot two. This part of the country possesses considerable geological interest: the hills round the bay are of slight elevation; and 80 or 100 feet from the sea level are large masses of coral rock, upheaved by some convulsion.

“30th.—Under weigh. Brought up in 23 fathoms, amid the coral shoals.

“31st.—Visited the island of Balunrueh for sights.

“Tanjong Labu is bluff and bold, and of moderate elevation. The land from thence trends away westward, forming a long bay, which, for distinction, may be called Labu Bay, at the N.W. part of which is the town of Songĭ, the principal place about here. Between Labu and Songĭ are the following countries: Kupi Kajang, Pakah, Buah, Kalaku, Baringan, and Magnarabunbang; each with a separate petty rajah. The country is moderately well cleared; about an average height, near the shore, of 300 feet; with few habitations about, but no towns or villages. The mountainrange throws a spur downward to the sea in the vicinity of Songĭ and the fine peaks of Lumpu Balong; and Wawa Karang, with theconfusionof mountains, form a magnificent background to the prospect. From Magnarabunbang the land runs away to the eastward toward Tanjong Salanketo, which must be described on a future occasion. In the offing are several islands and numerous reefs. The principal island is Balunrueh, 400 or 500 feet high; bold, steep, and covered with trees, except at its northern extremity; where it is low, with a sandy point. Off this north point runs a coral reef; direction 354°, and extent about two miles. At the S.W. angle of the island there is likewise a reef stretching half a mile; and the shores all round, for a short distance, are lined with coral, outside of which the water is apparently very deep. We could get no soundings with a hand lead, half a mile to the westward.

“Off Balunrueh, to the S.E., is the islet of Liang Liang; next to Liang Liang, Tanbunoh, which is larger; then Cadingareh Batantampeh (the largest), Cotingduan Lariahriah, and two islands to the northward called Canallo. Balunrueh and Batantampeh have both indifferent fresh water; the former near the low point at the north end. From the S.W. end of Liang Liang a reef runs out. The bearing, from the small hill, over the watering place of Balunrueh, was 77°. The reef extends to 104°, and stretches to the southward beside: near Liang Liang it is narrow. Its limits I could not define.

“Between Liang Liang and Tanbunoh a narrow reef, and spits from most of the islands. Two patches lay off Balunrueh about two miles and a half: the first, bearing 319°, is narrow, and about half a mile long; the other smaller, and bearing 287°. Part of the day we passed on Balunrueh was very hot; but we got satisfactory sights, and sailed round the island, returning to the vessel about six in the evening.

“I must now return to Labu, to give some account of the channel between the reefs; as, from the appearance of the charts, it would seem impossible to navigate the western side of the bay. Having passed Tanjong Labuat a distance of 3½ or 4 miles, get the flat-topped hill called Bulu Tanna ahead. Close to the Bulu Tanna, in the foreground, is another smaller hill, with two remarkable tufts on the top: this hill, just open to the eastward of Bulu Tanna, is the leading mark for Songĭ, which stands to the westward. This mark will lead clear, or very nearly so, of all the reefs; but as there is uncertainty in the distance from Tanjong Labu, it may be necessary to diverge from the straight course in order to avoid some of the patches. In the daytime the coral is seen with the greatest ease; and a vessel with a lookout aloft, and a breeze, may proceed with safely. The first reef is on the starboard hand; part was dry, and shoal-water about. This first patch is in the proximity of the great reef called Melompereh, which runs to the eastward. Beside these, the channel is occasionally lined by patches on either hand; but is nowhere narrower than a mile and a half, and is anything but difficult navigation, so far, in clear weather.

“Jan. 4th, 1840.—Arrived off Songĭ on the 1st, and dispatched a boat to the old Rajah, or Rana, of Lamatte. Our answer was, that not, having been to Boni, she feared receiving us, as she felt inclined; but if we would come to her house, she should be glad to see us. On the following day, accordingly, we paid our visit at her residence, which is situated about four miles up the river Tanca.

“The old lady is about sixty-five years of age, and (as she herself informed us) very poor. Her house, indeed, bears every mark of great poverty; having a leaky roof, and not sufficient matting to cover the bamboo floors. She was kind, and seemed pleased to see us; said I should henceforward be her son, and that nothing but her fear of the Boni Rajah prevented her receiving me in the best way in her power; but pointing to the roof and to the floor, she repeated, ‘I have nothing.’ I presented her with such articles as I thought would be acceptable to her; and, in return, she gave me a sarong.

“The population of the country is considerable. The last district I mentioned was Magnarabunbang. The town of that name, on the sea-side, consists of forty-fivehouses, beside a roving population of Badjows. Along the coast to the eastward, and close to Magnarabunbang, is the river of Songĭ. Proceeding up this shallow river, the first village is Tacolompeh, situated on the right bank, and consisting of twenty houses; nearly opposite the village of Pangassa, of thirteen houses; and farther up, about four miles from the riverʼs mouth, stands Songĭ, consisting of 164 houses on the right bank, and 60 on the left. These places are all on the low ground, and surrounded with cocoanut-trees.

“Joining the district of Magnarabunbang, on the coast, is Lamatte, the rajanate of our old friend. The river, like the Songĭ, is shallow, and running through very low ground. On the left bank is Luppa, consisting of twenty-five houses; then, on the right, Ulo, twenty-two houses; and above Ulo comes Ulluē, of twelve houses. Nearly opposite Ulluē is Balammepa, with thirty houses, superior to the others, and inhabited by merchants who have made money in trading voyages. This village sends yearly two prahus to Singapore. Just above Ulluē stand seven houses; and above Balammepa is Tanca, the residence of the Rajah of Lamatte, consisting of ten houses. The streams, as I have said, are shallow, and the ground low, neatly cultivated with Indian corn, and abounding in cocoanut-trees. Behind Magnarabunbang there is a narrow strip of low ground, which becomes wider as it advances to the eastward, with here and there moderate elevations.

“The chief product of the country is coffee, which is grown in great quantities on the hills, but brought down as it ripens, when it is collected by the Bugis merchants for their yearly shipments. The yearly produce is stated to be 2000 coyans or 80,000 peculs. The price is from fifteen to sixteen Java rupees the pecul; to which must be added the trouble and expense of storing and clearing from the inner skin. Tortoise-shell is brought in by the Badjows; and mother-of-pearl shells in any quantity there is demand for. Taking the number of houses in this small space, above described, the total will be 308 houses, which reckoned at the low estimate of eight persons for each house, will give 2464 inhabitants; this, however, is far below the proper estimate,as there are villages scattered between the rivers, and numbers of detached houses; in all, therefore, safely computed at 5000 persons.The villages, with the exception of Balammepa, have an aspect of poverty, and the country is ravaged by that frightful scourge the small-pox, and likewise some cases apparently of cholera, from the account given of the complaint. Near the hill of Bulu Tanna there is a hot spring, and likewise, by the report of the natives, some slight remains of an old building. I regretted much not seeing these; but the natives, with much politeness, begged me not to go previous to my visit to Boni, as they would be answerable for allowing strangers to see the country without orders from the chief rajah. All I see and hear convinces me that the Rajah of Boni has great power over the entire country. On a friendly communication with him, therefore, depends our chance of seeing something of the interior.

“The inhabitants here are polite, but shy and reserved: and the death of the Rana of Songĭ and the absence of the Rajah Mooda, her reported successor, have been against us.

“5th.—Sailing from Songĭ about 4P.M., we directed our course for Tanjong Salanketo. The breeze was stiff, which caused us to use considerable precaution in sailing among the shoals. Assisted by a native Nacòdah, by name Dain Pativi, we were enabled to keep the tortuous channel, of which otherwise we should have been ignorant. A little farther than the Tanca river is a shoal stretching from the shore, to avoid which we kept Canallo on our lee bow: this being cleared, we gradually luffed up, ran between two shoals, and passed several others.”

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