NORTH BORNEO. 
25 
advanced, and, as far as my little knowledge of Eastern travel went, I could not see how we 
were going to protect our goods from the drenching rains. When the morning came and 
I had said good-bye to my kind host at the pier-head, we espied two steam-launches 
entering the harbour with De Fontaine, all the orang puteh of the west coast, and a small 
army of Dyak and Sikh police on board. We w T ere informed that several tribes about the 
foot of Kina Bain had been misbehaving themselves after their manner, by collecting a few 
heads to celebrate their harvest thanksgiving; but unfortunately for me they had, I believe, 
attacked a village that had tendered its nominal allegiance to the Company, so it was 
considered necessary to send this expedition against them. This was a great blow to all 
my preparations, but I believe it was for the best, as, judging from my experience when I 
did reach that mountain some two years later, I am sure that the preparations made by my 
guide would have been fatal to any chance of success ; so I was advised to try the Padas Fiver, 
and started in that direction the following morning. After coasting a few miles the wind 
blew so hard in our faces that the two rotten little prahus made no progress and began 
shipping water freely, so we sought shelter in one of the rivers. All the North Bornean 
rivers have sand-bars across the mouths, which makes them difficult and often dangerous 
to enter: on this occasion the first prahu shipped a wave over the stern, which, however, did 
not do much harm; the natives in the other one jumped out and helped their boat over the 
bar, without getting water into her. Much to our surprise we noticed the steam-launches 
pass us, evidently having abandoned their expedition to Kina Balu for the time being. 
After a sharp shower we commenced rigging up a small shelter until the wind abated. 
The Company’s officer in charge of the district hearing that two white men were encamped 
a short distance off, kindly sent us an invitation to share his hospitality; this we gladly 
accepted, as there were sufficient sandflies and mosquitoes at that camp to keep a regiment 
awake; so leaving our boats in charge of the men we struck inland for his house. After 
wading through a mud-swamp we reached the splendid open plain of Patatan, and before 
we had gone far we met our future host coming to welcome us. 
I remained in Patatan two days, and for the first time visited some of the Bornean 
aborigines. The Dusuns, as the inhabitants of this district are called, are a hard-working 
lot of people, devoting their time almost entirely to rice-cultivation. The rice grown by 
them is called swamp-rice, to distinguish it from hill-rice. The different states of rice are 
denoted by the natives by three separate terms—in the fields it is known as paddi, 
unboiled as bras, and boiled as nasi. The plain of Patatan is well suited to the cultivation 
of this cereal, and the inhabitants make the most of their good fortune; the ground is 
turned over by a rude plough drawn by buffaloes, and after the harvest they have often a 
good deal to barter to their less fortunate, but I must say often more lazy, brethren. The 
Bajows of the Tampassuk plains could raise enough rice for nearly the whole of North 
Borneo; but they are much too idle to plant more than their household needs, and when the 
crop fails they have to buy from the more industrious Dusuns ; consequently the Patatan 
Dusuns are better off than any Bornean tribe I visited. Besides rice they have large 
coconut-plantations; betel-nut and other fruits are also cultivated on the small hills that 
stud the plain. Their only trouble is an occasional flood, when many cattle are washed 
away and other damage done. 
E 
