Labuan is one of the smallest and least well known of all British Colonies.

This island was ceded to Great Britain by the Sultan of Borneo in 1847, and the year afterwards a settlement was established here, the late Sir James Brooke, K.C.B., being the first governor. Its area is 19,350 acres, and it is situated in lat. 5° 20' N., being about six miles off the nearest point of Borneo, and about 700 miles from Singapore. When ceded it was uninhabited and very unhealthy, but now contains about 5,000 inhabitants, mostly Kadyans and Malays, and by clearing and draining the climate is improved. The principal traders and artificers are Chinese. Chinese coolies are imported as labourers. A few Klings or Bengalees also live here. The main object of the colony was the suppression of piracy once rife along the coast, and the working of the coal measures which exist at the northern point of the island. The quality of the coal obtainable here is very good, but the output hitherto has been comparatively small, owing to a series of adverse circumstances. At present the mines are deserted, the company having discontinued mining operations. There is a good harbour at the only town, Victoria, and this place forms a convenient coaling station for H.M. gunboats on the China station, which cruise in these seas. The trade is mainly in the hands of the Chinese, who purchase the native products of Borneo, Palawan, and the Sulu Archipelago, which is brought hither in native prahus or boats. Some of the traders also make voyages to different parts of the Bornean coast to collect sago, gutta, beeswax, edible swallows’ nests, camphor, trepang or beche de mer, mother-o’-pearl shell, and other produce, in return for which they barter cloth or cotton goods, opium and tobacco, muskets, ammunition, gongs, and crockeryware, spirits, tea and provisions, mostly derived from Singapore. The ss. “Cleator” carries the mails and most of the imports and exports between Singapore and this port, and affords the only regular means of transport. This vessel makes the voyage between Labuan and Singapore every twenty-one days, calling at this port on her way to Brunei.

The main industries of the colony are the coal-mines, sago-washing factories, and the culture of rice, fruit, and other food products. The mines were leased by the Government to the Oriental Coal Company of London and Leith, at a yearly rental of £1000 a year for mining privileges and the right of cutting timber free of duty. £50 annually was also paid for a wharf and store sheds at the harbour, a distance of nine miles from the mines. The coal was brought down in large sailing boats or lighters, manned by Malays. In 1876 only 5824 tons were obtained, but additional workings have been opened and alterations were made by the Company’s manager, Mr. A. Boosie, which it was thought would have facilitated a much larger output. The greatest drawbacks to successful mining operations were the enormous rainfall and its effects on the workings, and the inefficiency of native labour. Chinese coolies have now, however, been to a great extent substituted for the Malays previously employed. The ships of H.M. Navy have a prior claim to coal at £1 0s. 6d. per ton, ordinary trading vessels pay a trifle more. The revenues of the Colony are derived from various monopolies, such as the sale of opium, tobacco, spirits, fish, arms, and ammunition, the rental or sale of lands, and a per centage on all timber cut in the Colony.

In 1876 the opium farmer paid £2,687 10s. for the exclusive right of importing, preparing, selling, or exporting opium in the island. Tobacco produced £750; spirits, £300; fishmarket, £550; pawnbroking, £112 10s.; licences to sell arms and ammunition, £65. A duty of ten per cent. is payable on the value of all timber cut on crown lands, except by the Coal Company, who, as already stated, have the right, free. The estimated acreage of the colony is 19,350 acres, of which 1,738 acres are supposed to be cultivatable, and 17,612 uncultivatable. Field labour, the felling of timber, &c., is carried on by Chinese and Malays, who receive 25 to 30 cents per day; carpenters, 50 cents; blacksmiths, 60 cents. The land under padi (rice) cultivation is about 11,000 acres, and consists of well watered alluvial plains near the centre of the island. Cocoanut palms and other fruit trees, 550 acres; sugarcane and vegetable gardens, about 50 acres. The Chinese here, as elsewhere eastward, monopolize the vegetable-growing industry. The largest cocoanut plantation and oil factory is on Pulu DaÁt, a large islet lying between Labuan and the Bornean coast. The total number of cocoanut trees in the colony is estimated at 200,000. The nuts, retail, either green or ripe, fetch two or three cents each, and the oil obtained from them fetches the uniform price of £33 per ton. A young plantation of the African oil-palm (ElÆis guineensis) has been established on Pulu DaÁt, and the experiment promises to be a successful one. The little coarse uncrystallised sugar made in the colony fetches about 50 cents per gantang, a measure holding about 7lb. Padi, or rice in husk, fetches about £1 10s. per 100 gantangs (6 cwts.). There are three sago washing works near Victoria Harbour, where the raw pulp, as brought from the Bornean coast, is hand-washed and sifted into the dry sago-flour of commerce. Some of the low-lying well watered or marsh-land has been planted with the sago-palm.

A new fishmarket has been erected, and this building, together with the right of buying and selling all the fish caught, is let annually to the highest bidder with the other farms. No regular fisheries are organised, nor is any record kept of the quantity and description of fish supplied. It is estimated at about 1000 piculs. In the capture of fish along the coast, seine nets and “kelongs” or bamboo traps are used. In deep water a baited hook and line.

An oil-spring exists in the forest, near the mines, at an elevation of 130 feet above the sea, the yield during wet season being about 12 gallons of petroleum every twenty-four hours. The highest land in the island is Bukit KalÁm, 280 feet above sea level. The total area in scrubs and fern is 1000 acres, timber or forest about 300 acres. The quit-rents on lands sold for 999 years produce about £230 annually. It not being considered advisable to alienate any further crown lands at present on account of the low prices obtainable, the Government rice lands are let annually for prices varying from two to four shillings per acre. The edible fruits cultivated are fine oranges of several kinds, excellent pomoloes, Durian, mangoes, tarippe, rambutan, jack-fruit and champada, rose apples (jambosa), cocoanuts, mangosteen, rambi, bananas in variety, limes, guava, papaw, cashew nut, and several others, including the bread-fruit, baloonas, mambangan. The total revenue in 1877 was £7,490, the expenditure being £7,995. Imports, total value, £126,594, exports £112,996. Cattle and ponies are cheap—thus, good cows are worth £2 to £4 each; Shanghai sheep, £1 to £2; goats, 10s. each; ponies, £4 to £10. These last are imported from the Sulu Islands. Water buffaloes are generally used as draught animals, and are worth from £4 to £6 each.

The whole island is tolerably flat, and at one time was entirely covered with forests, yielding fine timber. Of late years, however, jungle fires have been frequent during the dry season; and at the present time but little old forest remains. The climate is now generally supposed to be drier and more healthy than formerly; but the flora has suffered much, many orchids and other rare plants, formerly found here in abundance, being now quite extinct. After the rains a lovely little blue burmannia (B. coelestis), and a tiny sundew become very pretty on the plains. Yellow flowered xyrids and eriocaulons grace the wet ditches, and the orange orchards are redolent with perfume, the trees being then in bloom, and at night the gardens are illuminated with fire-flies.

I resided for some time in a house which had been occupied by Mr. Hugh Low, the garden and fruit orchard of which afforded the most delightful walks morning and evening. I never saw the elk’s-horn fern (Platycerium grande) so luxuriant anywhere as it was on the boles of some large orange-trees here. The barren fronds were broad, like the horns of the giant Irish elk; and the more slender fertile ones drooped on all sides from the base of the nest formed by the leafy expansions. I measured some of these fertile fronds, and found them fully seven feet in length. These splendid ferns (one of which is here represented in my sketch), and the choicest of epiphytal orchids, which had been planted among the branches of the trees, made a walk amongst them most enjoyable. I thought at the time I should never like to see orchids, and other rare exotics stewed up in a glass shed again, after seeing them thus luxuriant in the open air.

The flowering trees, many of which have been introduced into the gardens, are very lovely a week or two after the rains. Poinciana regia, two or three species of cassia, and Lagerstroemia regina, and L. indica, with white lilac or rosy flowers, are common. Different kinds of jasmines, ixoras, and hibiscus flower freely nearly all the year, as also does Thunbergia laurifolia, which drapes trees, and fences, the fire-blossomed pomegranate, the fragrant oleander; there are also pools filled with the sunshade-like leaves and rosy flowers of the Sacred Lotus, the beauty of which rivals even the celebrated Lotus pools of Japan. One or two honey-suckles and Jasminum grandiflorum form tangled masses in the hedges, the pearly flowers of Pancratium zeylanicum spring up from the grass, sheltered here and there by caladium leaves, and a scarlet hippeastrum forms glowing masses in old gardens, and on waste places where houses have once been situated.

Where many indigenous plants have died out, this hippeastrum has become naturalised: the light sandy soil and hot sun seem to suit its requirements; and it increases so freely, that a barrow-load of bulbs might be dug from a square yard of earth. Another introduced plant, perfectly naturalised here, as also in Penang and Singapore, is the dwarf and acrid Isotoma longiflora, which bears snowy-white long-tubed flowers. The purple-flowered “Mudar” (Calotropis gigantea), and the glorious mauve wreaths of Bougainvillea spectabilis, are in places very beautiful. The climate is hot, especially during the dry season; but about five o’clock P.M., when the land breeze sets in, it is cool and agreeable.

Mangoes, especially the fine Manilla varieties, and pomoloes, grow well in the gardens and orchards, as also do oranges of various kinds. The soil is so poor, however, that in order to obtain fine fruit, it is necessary to keep a herd of cattle, and to fold them at night, for the sake of a good supply of manure. Where the trees are planted on the grass, a circle beneath each is cultivated with the “chunkal,” or heavy iron hoe; and this is regularly manured and watered. It is quite usual to see the boles of mango and some other fruit trees gashed with blows from a chopper at intervals, an operation analogous to the ringing or strangulation formerly practised in English gardens before root-pruning came into fashion. This is done to induce the trees to bear fruit earlier, and more abundantly.

There is only one species of bird endemic, a lively black and white one (Copsychus amoenus), which frequents gardens near the bungalows, and sings very sweetly during wet weather; indeed, it was the only Eastern song bird which reminded me of our dappled thrush at home. Of eagles and fish hawks there are several species. Tern are seen in flocks on neighbouring sand-banks. Golden plover and snipe abound on the plain near the shore, and there two or three sand pipers and rails. The white crane, or “padi bird,” is common; and the long-pinioned frigate bird wheels overhead, far out of gun-shot, diving now and then into the sea after food with wonderful velocity. The mellow whistle of the mino bird is one of the most familiar sounds of the forest, especially when the fruit of the wild figs ripen, and then white, large blue, and pretty little green tree pigeons of many kinds appear, attended by flocks of glossy, red-eyed starlings.

The “chuck, chuck” of the goat-sucker (Caprimulgus macrurus) is one of the most familiar sounds during moonlight nights. At daybreak the chatter of the Java sparrows assures one of its being high time to rise. Cuming’s mound bird (Megapodius Cumingi) is found in Labuan, but is more common on the islets of Kuraman, where its nests are met with in mounds of earth, three to four feet in height, and twelve feet in circumference.

Even the Nicobar pigeon visits this island; and a solitary hoopoo was shot there during my visit. Two species of great beaked hornbills inhabit the forest; and there are three or four species of swallows. One of the prettiest of all the small birds is a long-tailed green and brown fly-catcher, which might easily be mistaken for a swallow, so swift and graceful is its flight. A large red kingfisher (Halcyon caromanda), found here, builds its nest in a peculiar manner, as described by Mr. Sharpe, in Proc. Zool. Soc., 1879, part ii., p. 331:—

“The nest is said to be pendulous, and invariably to be accompanied in the same mass by a bee, which is peculiarly vicious, so that the nest can only be robbed after destroying the bees.”

The interior of the island is flat and marshy; and here the soil being deep and alluvial, it is well adapted for rice; and the wet patches beside the streams suit the sago palm well. In the patches of low jungle beside the roads three or four species of pitcher plants abound, rooting into the wet, sandy peat earth, and climbing up the shrubby undergrowth in the most luxuriant and graceful manner. These nepenthes stems are wonderfully tough, and are used as withes, and as a substitute for rattan cane in tying fence timbers together. More rarely they are used in basket-work. The kinds most common in Labuan are N. gracilis, several varieties, N. nivea, and N. ampullaria. There are five or six species of terrestrial orchids; and from trees on Dr. Ley’s estate plants of the new genus astrostruma (A. spartiodes, Benth.) were gathered for the first time.

Alligators infest the streams, and shallow sea, near the town of Victoria; and now and then a native is carried off. One of these large brutes actually tried to carry off a pony one night during my stay. Snakes are plentiful. A deadly green snake is common on the Bird Island, just off the mouth of the harbour, and great brown rock snakes abound. One night a Kling man brought a black snake, six feet long, tied to a stick, which he said he had caught up a cocoa-nut tree, and added that it had just swallowed a bird. It was purchased; and in the morning, when it was being skinned, the “boy” came to say that it had young ones inside it. This we did not believe; and, on going to see it, we found that the “young one” was a snake, two feet long, of another species, very common in the island, which had been swallowed head foremost, as usual, and was in part digested. The large snake was so fat, that hunger could not have prompted it to swallow a smaller brother; and so I more than suspect that Malaysia can now boast of a snake-eating snake, as well as British India, whence one of these cannibals, the ophiophagus, was introduced to the Zoological Gardens a few years ago.

A large boa, ten to twenty feet long, and as thick as one’s arm, is common in the jungle, and often commits depredations amongst badly-housed poultry, as also does the iguana. A singular sluggishness characterised all the snakes I saw; and as many of those said to be deadly by the natives rest on the trees, rather than on the ground, this may account for the extreme rarity of death from snake-bites in this part of the East. A slender green species, nearly six feet in length, infests the fig-trees when in fruit; and, twisting its tail around a branch, it coils itself up ready to spring at any bird unwary enough to venture sufficiently close. One of these I saw shot; and it had a double row of hooked fangs in its wide set jaws, admirably adapted to hold anything once within its grasp.

Perhaps the most lovely and interesting of all, however, are the sun-birds, which are here in the East the representatives of the true humming-birds of the Western tropics. “They are ethereal, gay, and sprightly in their movements, flitting briskly from flower to flower, and assuming a thousand lovely and agreeable attitudes. As the sunbeams glitter on their bodies, they sparkle like so many precious stones, and exhibit at every turn a variety of bright and evanescent hues. As they hover around the honey-laden blossoms, they vibrate their tiny pinions so rapidly, as to cause a slight whirring sound, but not so loud as the humming noise produced by the true humming birds. Occasionally they may be seen clinging by their feet and tail busily engaged in rifling the blossoms of the trees. I well remember a certain dark-leaved tree with scarlet flowers, that especially courted the attention of the sun-birds; and about its blossoms they continually darted with eager and vivacious movements. With this tree they seemed particularly delighted, clinging to the slender twigs, and coquetting with the flowers, thrusting in their slender curved beaks, and probing with their brush-like tongues for insects and nectar, hanging suspended by their feet, throwing back their little glossy heads, chasing each other on giddy wing, and flirting and twittering, the gayest of the gay. Some were emerald-green, some vivid violet, and others yellow, with a crimson wing.”

Sir Jas. Emerson Tennent describes them as being common in Ceylon, where they frequent the gardens, and rifle the blossoms of the passifloras, and other flowers; at other times searching for small insects and spiders, and again pluming themselves, and warbling their pleasing songs on the pomegranate-trees. “If two happened to come to the same flower—and from their numbers this has often occurred—a battle always ensued, which ended in the vanquished bird retreating from the spot with shrill piping cries, while the conqueror would take up his position upon a flower or stem, and swinging his little body to and fro, till his coat of burnished steel gleamed and glistened in the sun, pour out his song of triumph.” The rich plumage of the dainty little male birds is only seen during the breeding season, after which they moult, and are as unattractive as their mates. Two tiny eggs are laid in a wee nest, which is suspended from a twig, or sometimes the stout web of a large spider is made to bear the little shelter for eggs and young.

The spiders in the jungle, and old buildings of the East, are numerous; and some are of an alarming size, but of beautiful colours. One large, black, yellow-spotted species measures six or eight inches across its extended legs, and its web is held in position by grey lines, almost as stout as fine sewing-cotton, and strong enough to pull one’s hat off. It is a very disagreeable sensation to feel them across one’s face, as often happens in a little used jungle-path. Ants are particularly plentiful; and the white termites throw up mounds of red earth, five or six feet in height, and often do much damage by burrowing into the piles of houses, and other buildings. The species of ants vary much in size. One is a tiny red fellow, but little larger than a cheese-mite, and scarcely visible; others are black, their bodies being an inch in length. Some species bite very sharp if disturbed, as I found to my cost, when scrambling about over the branches of trees after orchids, and other plants. There is one species of nepenthes (N. bicalcarata), having large red urns, the stalks of which are invariably perforated by a species of ant; and I found a flowering shrub on the Tawaran river, the stems of which were swollen and hollow just below the flower-heads, this being due to the punctures of ants; a remarkably curious gouty-stemmed plant, parasitical on low jungle-trees in Labuan—myrmecodia—actually depends for its existence on the bite of a species of ant. The seed germinates on the bark of the foster-tree; and when the seedling has attained a certain height, the growth ceases, and it remains stationary, until the necessary bite is given, when the stem swells out at the base, and leaves and flowers are produced in due course. If not thus punctured, the young plant dies. The gouty or swollen stem is hollow, and forms a refuge for the ants, which in their turn may afford it some needful protection, since they rush out boldly to attack trespassers who disturb the tree on which their fostered-shelter plant grows.

One day, as I emerged from the forest on the western shore of the island, I came across a young Kadyan engaged in making salt. The process, as carried out by him, was very simple. A heap of drift wood is collected, and of this a fire is made, so as to secure a good supply of ashes. The ashes are placed in a small tub, and sea-water is filtered through them, so as to catch up whatever salt they contain. It now remains for the water to be evaporated, so as to leave the salt. To this end evaporating-pans, or rather receptacles, are neatly made from the sheaths of the nebong palm, fastened into shape by slender wooden skewers. Two logs are then laid parallel to each other, and a foot or fifteen inches apart, and over these the pans are placed close together, so as to form a rude kind of flue, in the which a fire of light brushwood is lighted, and very soon afterwards the salt may be observed falling to the bottom of the evaporators. It was a very hot morning, and the heat in the close forest where I had been exploring was so intense, that I was thankful to reach the coast and feel the delicious breezes which came from the open sea. The beach to the westward of the island is mainly of firm yellow sand, but here and there paved more or less thickly with honey-combed coral rocks and pebbles. The outer edge of the old forest nearest the shore is fringed with tall casuarina trees, here called “Kayu Aru.” The Malays have some legends connected with this tree, and can rarely be induced to cut it down, although the tough light timber is well suited for some particular purposes.

Under a group of these trees a large company of Kadyans were encamped, and busily engaged making “Pratchan.” This is a reddish product made of prawns. Some of the men were out in canoes just beyond the shallow reefs catching the tiny fish, while others and the women and girls were preparing them on shore. The fish are jammed up in troughs formed of hollow trunks of trees by beating wooden pestles, and when finished resembles a stiff red paste, which is afterwards packed in circular palm-leaf bags or baskets for the Chinese markets. Some of the fish were being dried by being spread out in the sun on mats. They were bright as burnished silver, and in flavour reminded one of whitebait. The price of the red paste, or prepared “Pratchan,” is about three dollars per picul, and the dried article fetches ten or twelve cents per gantang. Their encampment of yellow palm-leaf mats and bamboo poles formed a pretty rural scene beneath the tall trees which overhung the yellow sands, and the dusky limbs and faces, and the bright-coloured “sarongs” worn by the women of the party, added much to the picturesque view as seen beneath a blue and cloudless sky. I and Mr. A. Cook visited the oil springs, which are situated in a shady glade in the forest two or three miles from the coal-mines. All the evidence of the old borings we saw was an old door and a rude trough, into which the oil-surfaced water rises as it wells up slowly from the rocks below. No use is now made of this oil, except by the Kadyans and other natives, who utilise it now and then in the manufacture of torches. The odour of the oil is distinctly perceptible near the spring, and the oil itself covers the surface of the little stream as it flows seawards. Before the spring was reached we passed through an open clearing of a hundred of acres or more covered with grass, on which a few milch cattle belonging to some of the Kling residents were grazing. We were surprised in one place to come across an old garden, of several acres in extent, containing mango, banana, and other fruit trees, with here and there native huts, houses, and rice-barns all going to decay. A Kadyan, who overtook us just before we entered the forest, told us it was an old village belonging to his tribe, adding that they had abandoned it after their headman had died there. It is by no means unusual to find localities abandoned in this way in Borneo owing to the death of the principal man in the village, and when the rotten old palm-thatched houses have been eaten up by the luxuriant jungle which springs up around, the fruit-trees prosper and serve to mark the localities of former villages long after they themselves have vanished for ever.

Here, as elsewhere in warm climates, the mosquito is of all animals the smallest and most troublesome to the weary traveller. Large moths flutter about the ceilings, especially on cold wet nights, and insect life of many kinds is attracted to the lamplight. In every house there is a colony of lively little drab-coloured lizards. They run very nimbly up the sides of the room and on the ceiling, keeping a sharp look-out the while for their supper of moths and flies. The Malays have a proverb, “That even a lizard gives the fly time to pray.” This has been derived from the peculiar manner in which this tiny Saurian “goes for” its quarry. On seeing a fly it darts at it swiftly, but when within an inch or two of it suddenly stops itself and pauses several seconds ere the fatal spring is made and the fly seized. Now and then the lizards lose their hold of the ceiling and come on the table with a “flop,” but this is a rare occurrence. One of the most common and interesting of the domestic insects is the “mason wasp,” a large yellow species which constructs a series of mud cells or a gallery of earth against the woodwork of the verandah or roof. In each cell, as completed, an egg is deposited, and ere closing up the cavity it is stuffed full of green caterpillars, which are then sealed up alive to serve as food for her larva when hatched out. The big black carpenter bees are also often seen examining the woodwork of the house or verandah, and on finding a piece in suitable condition they bore a clean hole into it in which to deposit their eggs. These two insects are highly interesting—a mason and a carpenter—and both do “worke moste excellently well.” Native houses and gardens are dotted pretty freely about the island, and there are some interesting walks. I was enabled to explore the island pretty well, in which work the Hon. Dr. Leys very kindly assisted me by the loan of his favourite horse “Joseph.” This animal was the most gentle and tractable creature imaginable, and admirably accustomed to jungle travelling, since he would go anywhere among trees or bushes, and might be trusted to stand quietly if tied; or he would follow one like a dog if loose. He was of Australian breed, and had his faults too. At the “whisk” of a whip or stick he was inclined to bolt, and once threw me pretty heavily when frightened in that way. Another trick he had was to stop suddenly at any place where he had turned off the road, or had been tied before, and as he would stop short or turn off thus suddenly when at full gallop, the consequences which sometimes resulted from such freaks may be readily imagined. With all his vagaries, however, he was a sleek and loveable creature; and I once saw the little daughter of the Doctor’s Malay syce or groom lift up one of his hind legs when in the stable, at the same time telling her little group of dusky playfellows how very vicious he was (eine kudah jahat—jahat banyiak skali, etu lah!). “Joseph” was the swiftest animal in the island, and rigorously excluded from competing at the races held on the plain by the shore every New Year’s Day. These annual races and sports are much appreciated both by Europeans and natives, and they afford the only general holiday in which both natives and Europeans mingle during the year.

The native canoe races in the harbour are a speciality, the Malays and Brunei men being here seen in their native element. The “tug of war” between Malays and Chinese is also an amusing feature, while all are interested in the performance of the ponies and in the European athletic sports. A palm-thatched erection beneath the casuarina trees, near Ramsay Point, does duty as a grand stand and refreshment bar, and from the slight elevation, it affords an excellent view of the dusky but smiling faces and parti-coloured costumes of the natives and Chinese. All the native beauties are present, and glimpses of bright expressive eyes, coal-black hair secured with silver pins, and brilliant sarongs beneath neat cool-looking sacques meet one at every turn. Here and there the sparkle of jewellery and the glitter of bangles meet the eye, and on all sides the lavish display of pearly teeth and the ripple of merry laughter is seen and heard. A dinner at Government House, to which almost all the Europeans in the island, or from the gunboat which may happen to be in harbour, are invited, winds up this gala day of the opening year.

There is a neat little wooden church here on the hill behind Government House, and there is a service once or twice every third year, when the Lord Bishop of Sarawak visits this part of his diocese. From some of the elevated portions of the island beautiful views are obtainable, with the blue mountains of Borneo towering skywards in the distance; and from the verandah of the manager’s house at the coal-mines at the northern end of the island, Kina Balu may be seen quite plainly at sunrise and sunset during clear weather; and although more than a hundred miles away, its topmost crags stand out clear and sharp, and are tinged with the most beautiful tints of purple and gold by the rising or the setting sun.

It was from Labuan that my visits to the Bornean coast and to Sulu were made. Some of these adventurous wanderings were pleasant, others the reverse. The following is a short account of a boat journey made by myself and Mr. Peter Veitch, its object being to obtain pitcher plants (Nepenthes bicalcarata), Burbidgea nitida, Pinanga Veitchii, Cypripedium Lawrenceanum, and other beautiful fine-foliaged plants and orchids:—

“Towards the noon of a hot day in January 1878—a day hot even for the tropics—two Veitchian travellers in North-western Borneo, with their native contingent of guides, boatmen, and carriers, were descending one of the most lovely of all the rivers in the island. The water was clear and smooth—so clear and so smooth that the great nipa leaves, which arched gracefully out from the banks and laved their ends in the stream, were reflected in the water as clearly as if in a mirror. The boatmen were in good spirits, for there was but little work for their paddles, so they chewed their betel-nut and limed pepper leaves contentedly, or rolled up a little tobacco, cigarette-like, in wrappers made of the young leaves of Nipa fruticans, and smoked in a silence only broken by low laughter and sentences murmured in the most musical of tongues. The river banks were clothed with forest trees, as also was the rising ground behind, and where the river was shallow mangrove trees, thickly interlaced, took the place of the big fruited nipa. On the lower trees near the fringe of the forest coelogynes, dendrobes, bolbophyllums, and other orchids—not often beautiful as that word is too often understood—clothed the branches; the tiny Davallia parvula, D. heterophylla, and D. pedata—all modest little species of ferns—were also seen on tree trunks or on rocks, and on the outer branches far overhead Platycerium biforme made itself a home, its fertile fronds drooping four or five feet below the cluster of barren ones. For company, but never at so great a height, varieties of Neottopteris nidus avis, or an allied species, were seen forming nests of glossy broadly strap-shaped fronds often of great length. Of palms the ‘Nebong’ (Oncosperma filamentosum) and the unique red-stemmed ‘Malawarin’ (which long defied Eastern collectors who wished to introduce it to Europe) were most beautiful. The former produces an excellent ‘cabbage,’ as good as seakale when well cooked, and its old stems are generally employed as piles by the Malays, who almost always erect their palm-thatched ‘atap’ houses over the water of river or sea.

“Bird-life generally was dozing—the birds were enjoying their noontide siesta in the shady trees. The handsome Bornean pheasants, the ‘Argus,’ the ‘Fireback,’ and the ‘Bulwer’ with its pure snowy tail of blackcock-like shape, were alike unseen and unheard. Now and then the deep rich and mellow whistle of the ‘Mino’ bird or Javanese ‘Grackle’ reached us, and a whole colony of large blue, and of pretty little greyish green, yellow-winged pigeons—Carpophagi—were surprised on a fig tree in fruit as the canoe shot around a sudden bend in the stream. Of the seven or eight species of hornbills known to inhabit these groves we saw not one—indeed our view of the birds would have been but meagre but for the apparition of a black darter with only its head or neck above the water, in which attitude its resemblance to a snake is well nigh perfect. A few kingfishers braved the sun and flitted alongside the nipa leaves, or flew rapidly across stream like clusters of jewels endowed with life and motion. Scarcely a sound disturbed the quietude and beauty of such a tropical scene, except that now and then for no very apparent reason the boatmen made a spurt with their paddles, any little extra exertion in this way being often accompanied by a plaintive song in chorus—melody in perfect keeping with a wildly natural albeit lovely spot. At one well-remembered bend of the glassy stream the men had been directed to stop awhile, and a few dexterous strokes of the paddle on the part of a handsome young Kadyan man named ‘Moumein,’ who acted as steersman, sent the canoe beneath the arching nipa plumes to a bare spot where it was possible to land. The wet branches of a low mossy tree were covered with the elegant little Davallia parvula, among which grew a cirrhopetalum only about two inches in height, and bearing little purple flowers in semi-circular whorl-like tufts at the apices of tiny scapes. On sandstone rocks near at hand the handsome Dipteris Horsfieldii was abundant, its stout rhizomes creeping over the nearly bare wet rock, and adhering so firmly by its tiny rootlets that it was difficult to displace.1 Above one’s head grew the great glossy green umbrella-like fronds, borne aloft on stipes varying from two to eight feet in length. Truly a noble fern—alas! how difficult to cultivate. At the time I lived in the locality in which it is found in the utmost luxuriance, I read of the plant being exhibited in London and elsewhere, but each successive report of it unfortunately recorded its decadence. This and the glorious Matonia pectinata—also Bornean, although first found together with our old friends Cypripedium barbatum, Nepenthes sanguinea, and Rhododendron jasminiflorum, on Mount Ophir, in Malacca—are two of the most noble of all ferns, rivalling the palms indeed in stately beauty and substance of frond-tissue. How unfortunate, then, is it that both so persistently resist the efforts alike of collectors and cultivators. As one of the two travellers before-mentioned I had previously visited the spot where we had now landed, and after a long walk through the tall forests, which are carpeted in moist places and near streams by lovely steel-blue aspleniums and lindsayas, and also by the freshest and most luxuriant of selaginellas, had, after ascending a sloping and rather dry hill-side, come upon a plant which I saw at a glance was zingiberaceous, but it was so distinct in port and flower to anything that I had previously seen that I sent roots of it to Chelsea, and a few of these fortunately survived. Its fate was not known to us at the time we again visited the spot, and so the object in again running the canoe among the nipa plumes at this place was to obtain a fresh supply. I shall long remember this second journey to collect Burbidgea nitida, since I was ill with fever at the time, and on Mr. Peter Veitch devolved the duty of a long tramp through the tall forest; past numerous felled gutta-yielding trees (Isonandra sp.?), and up the hill slope beyond, until just below the rocky summit, this plant is found at a place called the ‘Devil’s House’ (‘Satan punya ruma’) where are some dark deep holes in the face of perpendicular rocks, frequented by the swallows which build the edible nests so highly valued by the rich Chinese. The burbidgea grows on low wet sandstone boulders, on which their rhizomes and roots form a perfect mat, and among the plants as thus elevated decayed leaves and other forest dÉbris is blown by winds or washed by rains. Although growing in rich shady forest, and subjected to a heavy rainfall, and high, albeit fresh and often windy atmosphere, the plants rarely exceed a yard in height. To this place Mr. Veitch went with a body of trusty natives, and many bundles of the plants were brought back, some of them fine masses of twenty or thirty stems, each having recently borne a large cluster of its rich, orange-coloured flowers.

“While Mr. Veitch was away, my Chinese boy, ‘Kimjeck,’ got out the cooking utensils to prepare dinner on the shore, and the men who stayed behind amused themselves by looking for flowers (‘cheri bunga’) in the low forest and on the sandstone rock near our landing-place. I had to lie in the boat beneath the awning, feeling very sick, and with a splitting headache—feverish symptoms which all travellers in tropical forests alike must suffer. I was just dozing off to sleep when I heard much yelling, and my boy, who had joined the men, returned down the jungle path at full speed, shouting ‘Ular! Ular! Tuan! Sayah mow etu snapang lakas skali!’ ‘Trima kasi!’ he ejaculated, as he snatched my gun and disappeared with the agility of a young goat. The gist of the matter was, he had seen a snake and was off to shoot it. After listening for ten minutes to the most deafening shouts and yells, mingled with many ejaculations of advice and caution, and the reports of both barrels echoing through the forest, I was rather disappointed to see them return with a small snake, not larger than the English viper. On my expressing my surprise, and observing that, by the noise, I thought it was a snake big enough to swallow a buffalo, the men all agreed that what it lacked in size was amply compensated for by its fatal bite—or, as they expressed it, ‘if that snake bit a man he need not trouble about food any more, as he would have no time to pray.’

“The Muruts have a great love for gong music; and now and then a cheap German gun, or old Tower musket, is obtained from Chinese traders. Spears, blow-pipes, krisses or parongs (swords), and their ghastly baskets of human skulls, form their only accumulated wealth. These heads are used to ornament their dwellings at their periodical seasons of feasting, and when illuminated by the flickering glare of ‘dammar’ gum torches the effect is melodramatic in the extreme. It was rather difficult to make any use of these Muruts as collectors—they showed no powers of discrimination whatever, while the Kadyans, on the other hand—who are also aboriginals, but have mixed much with the dominant Malays, by whom they were years ago converted to the faith of Islam—showed great aptitude, and were of real service; and I shall long retain pleasant memories of some of the Kadyan villagers, especially ‘Moumein,’ of Meringit, who received me into the little village he had founded with every demonstration of friendship, and rendered me much intelligent assistance for many weeks. Of Malays generally one may say that they live by lying and thieving in one form or another, but the aboriginal races of Borneo, like the Papuans whom Goldie met inland in New Guinea, are gentle and hospitable to peaceably disposed strangers, and it will be a great pity to see them exterminated in the way their prototypes, the Incas of Peru, and the Red Men of the West, have been.”