174 
KINA BALU: SECOND EXPEDITION. 
This page I neatly rolled up and placed in an A 1 sauce bottle, which has a glass 
stopper; this I put in a sheltered position under the rocks, upon which we built a small 
cairn. 
The rocky sides of the precipices in front of us are curiously coloured with rose and 
purple-grey tints, and to me there is something solemn and dreadfully wonderful about this 
place. The Kadyans are imbued with the same feeling, and devoutly knelt and offered up 
a prayer to Allah, baptizing themselves in the pools of water which had collected amongst 
the granite slabs. I thought as I sat and wrote my journal how I could have spent days 
here with pencil and paints ; but my reverie is soon cut short by the clouds which are 
rolling up the granite slopes to the southward and have already hidden St. John’s Peak 
opposite, so at 10.15 we were forced to leave this most interesting spot. The Dusuns and 
my men complained of shortness of breath and headache ; I myself was likewise troubled. 
At 11.30 we again reached the base of Low’s Gully. As this distance took over one hour to 
accomplish, and there are no difficulties to prevent a fair rate of progress en route , I 
conclude that it must he at least two miles; some idea of it may be obtained from 
my sketch opposite page 180, which was taken from the Kinokok valley. My socks 
(of which I wore two pairs) were by this time worn through and in rags, my feet bleeding; 
the horny-footed natives were also crippled by the sharp granite crystals, which at the same 
time prevent slipping. When we reached Low’s Gully, we ascended between two high 
crags to the end, where a wall of rock bars the way. On the other side of the wall is the 
chasm already mentioned, and at the bottom, just below the place where we are standing, is 
a huge hole, the depth of which is lost in obscurity. In this hole, Kuro tells us, the Dragon 
lives. Here we rested for some time after our exertions, most of us suffering from the 
rarity of the atmosphere. Kuro, who is quite an authority on the legends of the mountain, 
has been holding forth. The Dragon, he says, has been heard to roar once to-day by him¬ 
self and Ivabong—Mr. Low, he says, also heard it; but unfortunately one of my men fired 
off a gun, which the Dragon objected to, so he did not roar again. Now came a most 
important ceremony ; we descended out of the wind, which blew in cold gusts through the 
gully, to the foot near a clump of rhododendrons. Here we sat down, Kuro alone standing 
upright, with the miserable cockerel under his left arm, the bird’s tail to the front. He now- 
commenced another prayer to the spirits of the Dusun valhalla: part of his prayer is about 
myself, “ Tuhan Burong ” (my Malay name) and “ tembilug ” (the Dusun word for bird) being 
frequently heard ; he is also telling these invisible ghosts by which we are surrounded that 
we do not wish to do any harm; at intervals of perhaps half a minute he jerks out a long 
feather from the chicken’s tail, and by the time he has finished his incantations the bird’s 
tail-feathers are planted upright in a row in a small crevice in the rock at his feet. After 
this ceremony we started for the cave below, the whole mountain being now enveloped in 
mist. The cave was reached with little difficulty, the rock in one or two places only being 
slippery from the water which ran over the slopes. On reaching the cave we made a hasty 
meal, the Dusuns kindly offering me the chicken, but, having neither the time nor the means 
to prepare it, I refused it; so they killed, half-roasted, and devoured the sacred bird them¬ 
selves. After this Ave started for the camp, which Ave reached in tAvo hours under a steady 
downpour. I do not think further exploration of these barren granite slopes would yield 
