May 25, 1882. ] 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
421 
seed for next season’s supply, and all who do this as soon as 
possible may rely on an ample return.—A Kitchen Gardener. 
Carter's Summer Broccoli.— In this neighbourhood it has 
been found that this Broccoli has a very desirable peculiarity—• 
not only is it the latest and one of the largest, but, what is almost 
of more importance where only a few varieties are grown and the 
consumption limited, it matures gradually. There are other 
varieties that, even though you make separate sowings, come in 
for use almost at the same time ; and in small families, and espe¬ 
cially suburban gardens, this is vexatious, as there is a surfeit 
at one period and none afterwards. Some of the heads are now 
coming into use, and will come on gradually until June, when 
Early Defiance and Early London Cauliflowers are fit for general 
use.—W. J. M., Clonmel. 
PITCHER-PLANTS AT HOME. 
Nepenthes are peculiarly tropical ; no plants are found in tem¬ 
perate countries. In the Malayan Archipelago they abound. On 
the Malayan Peninsula are several species—N. sanguinea, N. Baf¬ 
fles iana, and N. ampullaria. So also on the island of Singapore the 
two last named are plentiful ; indeed, N. Rafflesiana, which cul¬ 
tivators at home find hard to please sometimes, is there a great 
pest, coming up as a troublesome weed after the jungle has been 
cleared by fires. In Labuan every wet ditch and boggy piece of 
jungle is full of Nepenthes, which climb up the low shrubs and 
Fig. 83. 
Bamboo hedges in the greatest luxuriance. Hundreds of pitchers 
hang amongst the leaves and spikes of bright maroon blossoms. 
But to see “ Nepenthes at home ” in reality—to visit the court and 
see the Pitcher-plants in all their regal magnificence, the finest 
and rarest of all known species in their native Bornean habitat— 
one must go to Kina Balu, a large and precipitous mountain, five 
days’ journey from the mouth of the Tawaran or the Tampassuk 
rivers. These starting points are, however, a hundred miles or so 
north of the British colony of Labuan, and may be reached in a 
prau or native boat in from two to five days, according to the state 
of the winds and tides. These boats (fig. 83) are built by the 
Malays of native timber, secured together by wooden pegs and 
rattan canes. They sail well, and I have spent many days 
pleasantly in the little deck cabin, formed of a Kajang mat tied 
to light supports. In sailing from Labuan to Tampassuk one 
simply skirts the coast line, and can run inland to cook, or for 
wood and water when necessary. Fresh fish in quantity is easily 
caught en rovte, and Palm tops afford a delicious vegetable, being 
plentiful all along the coast. Squalls now and then come sud¬ 
denly, and a salt-water bath is obtained Jiolcns volens, and the 
chance of pirates pouncing down upon us in their long war 
praus is just sufficient to give a zest to the voyage. All Malays 
are good sailors, so that there is no anxiety as to the management 
of the boat. They are also clean and companionable little fellows 
and excellent company. Altogether these boat excursions in 
Borneo are very pleasant, and I often look back and wonder what 
luck betides some of the Malays whom I met there, and who en¬ 
deared themselves to an English stranger by many acts of gene¬ 
rous and disinterested kindness. The last time I went to Kina 
Balu [figured page 355, vol. iii., new series, October 20tb, 1881] 
I was five days on the boat; winds were contrary, and cur¬ 
rents disagreeably strong betimes. We landed one evening on 
Pulo Tiga, where Phalaenopses grow in thousands on the trees near 
the shore. It is a large island, well wooded and watered, but with 
no permanent inhabitants. We cooked our dinner on the sandy 
beach, and ate it sitting on a large tree trunk as the sun sank 
below the horizon. The sunsets here are very beautiful, and Kina 
Balu looms up into the opal sky, its top crags tinted by the dying 
sunlight. Morning and evening this mountain is often seen; at 
mid-day it is rarely visible, being enveloped in mists or cloud. 
Sea life and fresh air give one a keen appetite, and dinner is a 
subject of much importance to the traveller. Native cook-pots, 
carried in baskets (fig. 84), are brought out. They are made of bell 
metal, and supported on three large stones or pegs stuck in the 
sand. The Palm tops are cut and sliced to the fish, or a fowl or a 
pigeon just shot off the Casuarina trees by the shore, and chiliesare 
added. Tins of soup and jam are brought from the boat, and at a 
score of little fires around us the Malays cook their rice, which with 
dried fish forms their staple food. My little Chinese “ boy ” was an 
excellent cook. Perhaps one reason for this was that we always 
shared the contents of the pot together ! After dinner, coffee, and 
a cigar, darkness comes on, and brings with it many thoughts 
of home and friends. Then we wade out to the boat to sleep, thus 
avoiding the hungry mosquito of the jungly shore. 
The boat is left at the Tampassuk river, and then comes a five- 
days walk to the mountain. There are no roads better than a 
buffalo track, and no bridges, so that one must needs ford all 
rivers and streams. You can buy a buffalo and ride at a snail’s 
gallop, or you can walk. Buffaloes are slow and sure and of ex¬ 
ceptional service in crossing streams when freshets come rush¬ 
ing down from the mountains often and suddenly. Now and 
then we pass native Palm-leaf huts and groups of Cocoa-nut and 
Betel-nut Palms, Bananas, and other fruit trees. A drink of fr sh 
cocoa-nut milk, or rather water, is a revelation if a wineglassful 
of brandy be added. Bananas, and now and then a Durian or a 
Trap-fruit, are offered as presents by the natives. Sweet Potatoes, 
Maize cobs, Cucumbers, and Kaladi (roots of Caladium escu- 
lentum), become more plentiful as we get further inland. The 
coast people catch their fish and buy their rice, the inland folk 
buy their fish and grow their rice for themselves. At a little 
Dusan village below the slopes of Kina Balu I first found the 
women weaving cloth from the fibre of a native weed (Curculigo 
latifolia). It is strong and durable, and is dyed with home-grown 
indigo. The whole apparatus for weaving, and specimens of the 
plant and its fibre in all stages of its manufacture, are now in the 
Kew Economic Museum. Many of the poorer natives here still 
wear a strip of the fibrous bark of a kind of Bread-fruit Tree 
(Artocarpus elastica) around their loins. This, as their only 
garment, is 5 feet long and 18 inches wide, and is prepared by 
maceration and beating with clubs until the tough bast tissues 
only remain. No doubt this is actually the first clothing ever 
worn in Borneo—veritable Fig leaves to the aboriginal people of 
the island. Inland the people are stout and shapely, the women 
being especially comely, with dark eyes and raven tresses. Their 
duty is to attend the crops as well as culinary and other indoor 
labours. They are very fond of ornaments, and wear anklets 
and waistbelts of metal, and ear ornaments of singular shape. 
They were ever attentive to us, and were delighted with the 
needles and thread and little looking glasses which we gave 
them in return for their presents of fowls, eggs, rice, and fruits 
of various kinds. 
After five days of tramping over rocky paths and through rivers 
swollen by rains, now under a vertical sun, and anon drenched 
by sudden showers, we arrived at Kiau, a village on a ridge 
3000 feet high running nearly at right angles to the slopes of the 
great Pitcher-plant mountain. Having been here once before we 
found old friends glad to give us a welcome, and we were glad 
to rest after our march. Here and there along our route Orchids 
and Ferns grew in profusion on the trees beside the streams. 
Bamboos 50 or 60 feet in height waved in the breeze, and every- 
Fig. 84. 
where the women were busy in the wet rice fields. Here at Kiau 
we hired guides for the mountain, and retired to rest happy to 
think we were so near to the main object of our journey. Even 
now we are two days’ journey from the spot where the wonderful 
Pitcher-plants grow. First comes N. Veitchii, one of the best 
