into Malay, and the boatmen would push forward and listen with unconcealed
excitement. Then, as he returned to English, they would drop back into their
places, but never take their eyes off the face of the speaker. Only our China
“boys” took no interest in the past of Maur. It was tiffin time, and they were
anxious to set before us our lunch of rice curry, gula Malacca, whiskey and soda.
The sun was directly above us, and the fierce, steely glare of the Malayan sky
and water dazzled our eyes. Mount Ophir looked as far ahead as ever. The
winding course of the river seemed at times to take us directly away from it.
Just as we had finished our meal, and had lighted our manilas, the steersman
turned the little launch sharply about, and headed directly for the shore. In a
moment we had shot under and through the deep fringe of mangrove trees, and
had emerged into the jungle. On all sides the trees rose, columnar and straight,
and the ground was firm, although densely covered with ferns and vines.
The launch stopped, and the chief turned to me. “Now for the climb. We have
thirty miles to the base of the mountain. We will push on ten miles, and spend
the night at a Malay village. The next day we will try and reach the base of the
mountain.”
I looked about me. We might have been surrounded by prison walls, for all hope
there seemed to be of our getting an inch into the jungle.
Our servants gathered up our rather extensive impedimenta, and sprang into the
water. We were forced to follow suit, and begin our day’s march with wet feet.
A few steps up the stream we came upon an old elephant track and plunged
boldly in,—and it was in! For three miles we labored through a series of the
most elaborate mud-holes that I have ever seen. The elephants in breaking a path
through the jungle are extremely timid in their boldness. The second one always
steps in the footprints of the first. Year after year it is the same, until in course of
time the path is marked by a series of pitfalls, often two feet in depth; and as it
rains nearly every day they become a seething, slimy paste of mud.
Our heavy cloth shoes and stockings did not protect us from the attacks of
innumerable leeches; for when we at last reached an open bit of forest and sat
down to rest, we found dozens of them attached to our legs and even on our
bodies. They were small, and beautifully marked with stripes of bright yellow.