woman away as I did not know the facts of the case.
I would consult the woman’s own wishes. I f she
wanted to go back I was perfectly willing, but I would
not allow her to be taken away by force. The woman
was very much afraid she would be given back. She
said she would rather stay with us if we cut her up, than
so back with the Pangeran’s 0 o • son. The truth was,
1 believe, that as soon as they got the poor creature
out o f . sight, they would have cut her head off, and
thrown her body either into the jungle or into the
sea. "Who would ever have heard of it agaiu ? N o
one ! Not a soul ever comes this way, and many atrocities
must be committed by despotic and tyrannical
chiefs. The chief in question is he we went to see
during our last stay at Siquati, and who lent us the
prahu. I thought of this, and so gave the son
some yards of cloth and a tin of Swiss milk. His
father is very ill, and I advised the son to take him
to Labuan. The man seemed to haye but a very
vao’ue idea of where Labuan was, so I suppose the
old fellow without medicine will die. The men went
away about eight o’clock; they said if the woman
would stay they supposed she must. Our people were
afraid th a t they had a lot of men in ambush, and that
they would come along in the middle of the night and
carry the woman off. I was tormented all night with
this, and, as I lay with my hand on my revolver,
I fell asleep, and had the most awful dreams of rivers
.of blood, murders, battles, all curiously linked together
by a strange story of adventures in the Sulu
Islands.
Saturday, Dec. 31 $t.—Started from Siquati at halfpast
eight, and arrived at Luru at eleven o’clock. I t
rained a good deal; but at Luru it began to rain
in torrents. We had nothing to eat, as I had sent
everything on in the sampan, and it had not yet
arrived. We found some turtles’ eggs on the beach,
about 200, I ate of these and drank weak whisky and
water all that wretched day. At six o’clock the sampan
arrived, in the midst of pouring rain. Oh ! what
a wretched night I spent in a wet tent, everything
damp and getting spoilt. I t rained all night, and I
felt very wretched. Pangeran Brunei was rather kind
to us on the whole, but I could not sleep in his
horrible house, the dirt and stench being something
too much. If ever I get home again I will never go
camping out in a wet climate again. The natives
were very curious about my tent.
VII.
Jan. 1st, 1882.—If all beginnings of future new
years are as black as this one, I never wish to see
another.6 Rain ! That’s not the word for it. Abdul
unable to cook, everything wet and spoiling. What
I am to do if this continues I don’t quite know.
Go back to Siquati I think. The rain, however,
cleared a little about ten o’clock, and we started away
up the Luru River in the Pangeran’s prahu. After
about an hour and a half we were unable to get
further up the river. I t is simply a creek like Siquati
and Kurina, flowing through immense mangrove
swamps. I got a sample of the river’s bottom, but
it consisted simply of siliceous and argillaceous mud.
6 Nothing of this appears in the report to the Company, nor in his
private letters home ; they are evidently notes intended to be read to
the family circle when he should have returned home.
M