I was determined that the loss, though at the time a hard blow, should not
interfere with the carrying out of my plans. By rigid economy it could, at
least partially, be offset, and besides, I felt sure that if the necessity
arose it would be possible later to secure silver from Dutch officials on
the lower Mahakam River. Bangsul and some Penyahbongs, at my request,
searched in the surrounding jungle growth and found a hole that had been
dug of the same size and shape as the stolen box, where no doubt it had
been deposited until taken on board the prahu.
The day previous to our departure Mr. Demmini again was taken ill, and in
accordance with his own wish it was decided that he should return. I let
him have Longko in command of one of the best prahus, and in time he
arrived safely in Batavia, where he had to undergo further treatment.
Longko, the Malay with the reputation for reliability, never brought back
the men and the prahu; their loss, however, was greater than mine, as
their wages, pending good behaviour, were mostly unpaid.
Shortly after their prahu had disappeared from view, on February 20, we
departed in the opposite direction. Our new crew, of Penyahbongs mostly,
who only lately have become acquainted with prahus, were not quite so
efficient as the former, but much more amiable, laughing and cracking
jokes with each other as they ran along over the rocks, pulling the rattan
ropes of the prahus. No sooner did we ascend one kiham than we arrived at
another, but they were still small. Although the day was unusually warm,
there was a refreshing coolness in the shade under the trees that grow
among the rocks along the river.
Early in the afternoon we camped at the foot of the first of twelve great
kihams which must be passed before arriving at Djudjang, the rattan
gatherers' camp. During a heavy shower a Penyahbong went into the jungle
with his sumpitan and returned with a young rusa, quarters of which he
presented to Mr. Loing and myself. Bangsul had travelled here before, and
he thought we probably would need two weeks for the journey to Djudjang
from where, under good weather conditions, three days' poling should bring
us to Tamaloe. He had once been obliged to spend nearly three months on
this trip.
We spent one day here, while all our goods were being taken on human backs
to a place some distance above the kiham. Four Malays and one Penyahbong
wanted remedies for diseases they professed to have. The latter seemed
really ill and had to be excused from work. The rest said they suffered
from demum (malaria), a word that has become an expression for most cases
of indisposition, and I gave them quinine.
