A JOURNEY ON FOOT TO THE PATANI FRONTIER. 55 
the feet and disturb the centre of gravity, long graceful fronds of 
the rotan cane armed with a series of claws which claim a portion 
of everything in which they fix their hold, fallen logs which have to 
be climbed over wearily and painfully when a break in the pace is 
an additional exertion. Here the torrents of the rainy season have 
worn. the path into a minor watercourse, high and slippery on the 
sides, rough and uneven at the bottom; would you walk on the 
sides you can get no footing and slip at every step ; you follow the 
centre of the track, and the result is a series of jars decidedly try- 
ing to the vertebre. Rivers and streams must be crossed by 
wading, except when a bridge of, perhaps, a single narrow log 
offers a dry passage. While in the forest you are stifled for want 
of air, when you emerge into the plain you are roasted for want of 
shade. Arms and impediments of any sort become a burden, and 
I often thought when we halted late in the day, tired, hungry and 
half-blinded with the glare of the sun, that men in our position 
were not exactly in the trim to offer a very effectual resistance in 
ease of attack. But all hostile possibilities had been left behind 
when we quitted Kernei and another day would see us in Kedah 
territory. 
As we approached the famous Intan mines we passed the scenes 
of other unsuccessful mining adventures. A drove of wild pigs 
scampered across the path as we neared Galian Che Drahman, 
where the remains of an old smelting house and furnace were 
slowly mouldering into decay amid the ever encroaching vegeta- 
tion. The story of this mine is not an uncommon one in Malay 
mining districts: the discovery of a lode of ore, the opening of a 
mine by a party of Malays, a quarrel about shares, a fatal blow 
with a kris, the flight of the murderers and abandonment of the 
works. The story was told as we followed the little river, Ayer 
Kapayang, up-stream. Passing another abandoned mine, Galian 
Isang, which had once been worked by Chinese, we emerged from 
the forest at an old clearing, Padang Kalik, beyond which is a 
fine grove of durian trees. Then, descending into a valley at the 
foot of a steep hill, we came upon the small colony of Chinese who 
work the Kalik mine. Here we sat and rested for a while, and I 
talked to the Chinese headman about his prospects. The majority 
