100 
KINA BALU. 
the river, where it received a refreshing bath. After our mid-day meal we again started, 
hoping to reach Ghinambur before dark. The river here was very broad but shallow", and 
had to be forded to the path which traversed a lalang-grass covered plain for some distance 
on the opposite side. The day had now clouded over and it shortly began to drizzle, 
which during the afternoon developed into a steady downpour. The paths were much 
cut up by the buffalo traffic, and in places deep holes had been worn into the soft and 
slippery earth, making progress extremely slow. As each buffalo puts its feet into the holes 
made by those before it, by degrees large holes, often over a foot deep, with a space of 
about one foot between, are formed; on these intervening spaces the foot passenger has 
to walk, and as the path was either partly or entirely under water from the heavy rains, a 
plunge into the stinking mud is frequent. The most trying part of the day’s march w 7 as at 
a distance of about five or six miles from Ghinambur, where the path is much growm over 
and cut up in the manner described. This distance after the fatigues of the day seems 
extra severe on the traveller; and it was not until 5 o’clock that we arrived at our halting- 
place, appearing like drowned rats, the buffaloes and their riders not turning up until over 
an hour afterwards. 
Ghinambur reached, an old native made us welcome to pass the night in his house. 
The first thing to be done was to change our soaking garments and put on others, which we 
carried for such eventualities. Before the last buffaloes arrived it was nearly 7 o’clock; 
but the evening had cleared up, so the Ilanuns were able to graze their animals during the 
night. Some of these men watched their buffaloes all night, fearing, rightly, that they 
would be stolen by the Dusuns if they did not do so. 
Ghinambur is a small Dusun village built on the banks of the Tampassuk, half hidden 
amongst coconut-palms and fruit-trees, fine clumps of bamboo also add beauty to the scene. 
The houses for the most part are tumble-down and dirty, the spaces below being fenced 
round, and into these the live stock of the household—buffaloes and pigs—are driven for 
security during the night. Our host was very hospitable and showed us every kindness, 
turning out of his apartments to make room for us. The men wore garments of the usual 
thin blue trade-cotton, while the women make then own petticoats of native cloth. The 
village was fenced round with sharp bamboo-stakes, which had been put up to protect the 
people against the Koung and Kiau Dusuns, who live about a day’s journey up stream. 
The Koung Dusuns and those of other villages formed a party and raided down on the 
Ghinambur people after the rice-harvest last year, killing seven and taking their heads. 
This fight, together with the Company’s expedition, was the chief cause of Datu Tumang- 
gong’s reluctance to assist me last year. The old Dusun chief explained that it would be 
impossible for him to look upon the Koung and Kiau Dusuns, so great was his shame 
(which remark he suited by covering his eyes with his hands), until his people had had 
their revenge. At the present moment, he told us, his enemies were five heads to the good, 
and until this account was squared, either by heads or by payment of a fine, his tribe would 
not be free from disgrace. This feeling is identical with the Corsican vendetta, where the 
nearest relation of a murdered man is taunted and worried by his companions until he 
redeems the family name by another murder. The old chief wanted to call on the Company 
to protect him; but as no one had been near Ghinambur for many years, I advised him to 
