Through Central Borneo | Page 7

me on the street. The infinite variety in
their shops is noticeable. To see the coaling of the steamers in Japanese
harbours, which is done by baskets handed from one to another, makes
an impression on the traveller. Hundreds of women and men take part
in the occupation, and they come neatly dressed to this dirty work,
women with clean white kerchiefs on their heads. The low ditches in
their rice-fields are like engineering work, and their bundles of wood
are nicely tied.
Of the many temples I visited in Kioto the first was Chion-in, which
lies impressively on an elevation at the foot of a charming wooded hill.
The tiny lake at the back of the quaint structure, the peaceful
atmosphere, the sunshine, and singing birds--the tout ensemble was
inexpressibly beautiful. On my way back to the hotel I passed a
Christian church and felt ashamed of the wretched architecture, in the
usual conventional style, made of stone with white-plastered walls,
hard and unattractive. Never have I been among a people so close to

nature, strikingly intelligent, friendly, and the most aesthetic of all
nations on the globe.
In continuing the journey opportunity is afforded to see Shanghai,
Hong-Kong, and at last Singapore, the important port of the Malay
Peninsula. Singapore, with its green lawns and trees, has a pleasant,
though humid climate, cooler than that of Batavia, and quite
comfortable although so near the equator. It is satisfying to know one
place where the native races have a good time in competition with the
whites, not only the Chinese, who have reached power and influence
here, but also the Malays, natives of India, Arabs, etc. The Chinese
rickshaw men here are of superb physique, and the excellence of the
service renders this the most agreeable method of getting about.
Moreover, it is a pleasure to watch their athletic movements and long
easy stride, as if they were half flying. Some of them pass the carriages.
They are jolly, like big children, and are natural teetotalers, but they
sometimes fight about money among themselves.
After securing a Chinese photographer and a trained native collector of
zoological specimens, I embarked in the excellent Dutch steamer
Rumphius for Batavia where I arrived on the 10th of November. The
first thing to be done was to ask an audience of the Governor-General
of Netherlands India, who usually stays at Buitenzorg, the site of the
world-famous botanical gardens. It is an hour's trip by express from
Batavia, and although only 265 metres higher, has a much pleasanter
climate. The palace, which is within the botanical gardens, has an
unusually attractive situation, and the interior is light, cool, and stately.
His excellency, A.W.F. Idenburg, most courteously gave the necessary
orders for the furtherance of my proposed expedition to New Guinea,
and as it was necessary for me to go first to Dutch Borneo, to secure a
Dayak crew, he provided me with an introduction to the Resident of the
South and Eastern Division.
During the few days I stayed in Buitenzorg, the botanical gardens were
a source of ever new delight. It was in the latter half of November and
thus well into the rainy season. Usually showers came every afternoon,
but the mornings, even up to eleven o'clock, always appeared like

spring-time, only in a more magnificent edition than that of temperate
zones. In the effulgence of light and the fresh coolness of the first hours
of the day, plant and animal life seemed jubilant. After the calm and
heat of midday, violent thunder-storms of short duration may occur, but
the evenings are generally beautiful, although the prevailing inclination
is to retire early. In the tropics one realises more readily than elsewhere
how a single day contains all the verities and realities of one's whole
life: spring, summer, and autumn every day, as in a year or in a lifetime.
Australians and Americans who visit Java every year make a great
mistake in selecting the dry season, April to July, for their travels. To
be sure, one is not then troubled by rain, but on the other hand the heat
is greater, the country becomes dry, and including the botanical gardens,
loses much of its attraction.
I decided to go by rail to Soerabaia, the point of steamboat connection
with Borneo; this would give me opportunity to see Java besides saving
some time. After twelve hours' travel by express the train stops for the
night at Djokjakarta where there is a good hotel. We now find ourselves
in a region which formerly was the main seat of Buddhism in Java. The
world-famous monument, Boro Budur, is in the neighbourhood to the
north in the district of Kedu, and by motor-car a visit may easily be
made in one day, but for those who can spend