Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society/Volume 13/The Tawaran and Putatan Rivers

4445783Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, Volume 13
The Tawaran and Putatan Rivers
Stair Elphinstone Dalrymple

THE TAWARAN AND PUTATAN RIVERS,

NORTH BORNEO.


THE following sketch of these two rivers, taken from the notes of a trip which the writer had the pleasure of undertaking recently in the company of Mr. A. H. Everett, known for his researches into the ornithology of the Philippines, do not claim to be more than a cursory survey, but may contain some elements of interest, as treating of two rivers that have remained practically unvisited since the respective visits of Mr. Burbidge, the botanist, on his journey to Kina Balu, and of the present Sir Spenser St. John, in one of his numerous exploring expeditions.

The Tawâran river is reported to take its rise in the mountains flanking the great mountain of Kina Balu to the South. An affluent of it, however, called by the local Dusuns the Sungei Damit, which flows into the main stream on its true right bank at a point some few miles only from the sea, is said by them to flow more from the North of East, and may, therefore, be surmised to take its rise from the western flank of the big mountain. The mouth of the Tawaran opens to the westward, and is partly closed by the invariable sandy bar which obstructs the entrances of all the rivers of this part of Borneo.

Starting from the island of Gaya, where the North Borneo Company have a station, our route lay across the bay of that name, past the mouth of the Menggatal, or Kabatuan river, which, debouching to the westward, has good anchorage in deep water off its mouth, to a landing place called Gantîsan situate in the bight of Sapangar bay, where formerly the village of Gantisan stood. A low neck of land separates Sapangar bay at this point from the adjacent basin of the Karimbunai river. Coal is reported by the natives at this point. The water supply is good, and there is secure anchorage close inshore protected from both monsoons. A very slight cutting would suffice to pierce this narrow collar, and would thus render Gautîsan, the natural outlet of the trade of the Karimbunai, Mengkâbong and Tawâran rivers. The soil of the whole of this dividing ridge is apparently lateritic sandstone.

Descending into the valley of the Karimbunai river, a short walk down its left bank brought us to the village of that name, the headquarters of Pangêran Raup, the Governor of the district, a feudatory of the Sultan of Brunci and a member of the former Bruuei royal family. On examining an outcrop of the strata on the river bank, the strike proved to be N.E. with a dip of about 80° bed rock sandstone. After an interview with the old Paugêran, a boat was procured in which we paddled down to the common mouth of the Karimbunai and Mengkabong rivers. This is remarkably narrow and would seem to have been contracted by the formation of a high sandbank which has been, and is being, pushed southwards by the influence of the north-east monsoon and of the heavy swell from the China Sea, the action of the opposing monsoon being greatly neutralized by the protection afforded by the projecting bluff of Gaya head to the south-westward. The entrance is said to be fairly[1] deep, but would probably be impracticable in heavy north-westerly winds. Paddling up the broad expanse of the Mengkabong river, our course, on the average. being about E. by N., we came upon some fine reaches of water. Numerous channels branched off from the main one, which was flanked to the northward by mangrove growth, and to the south and east by grassy hills, while a bold range towered up to the S.E. A few miles further brought us to a point at which the river expands into a large, lake-like sheet of water, from the upper end of which a perfect network of broad channels diverge, dotted in all directions with Bajau villages extending far away up to the foot of the mountains.

The entire population of this district is Bajan, and is supported mainly by fishing, a little hill paddy being grown as well.

The Mongkâbong "river," so called, bears evidences of having been originally an inlet of the sea dotted with sandstone islands, which have, for the most part, become connected by the rising of the land and by the silting up of the basin itself, the blocking up of the mouth of which, by sand-bars, has led to its assuming its present form. In general features, it much resembles the Sulâman basin, no great distance to the north of it.

After threading this watery labyrinth for some hours we penetrated a narrow channel and landed at its head, at a small kampong called Brungis, whence a walk of about an hour over a low ridge, and then across a broad plain, brought us to the banks of the swiftly flowing Tawâran river, which at this point is a fine stream rolling its turgid yellow flood along between sandy banks of medium height. The Tawâran here intersects a level plain of large extent and sandy soil, dotted with homesteads surrounded by plantations of cocoa-nuts, and here and there under paddy cultivation. This plain is bounded by the sea to the W., by the mountains of the upper Tawâran to the E., and to the S. by the low ridge mentioned above, which divides the respective water-sheds of the Tawâran and the Mengkâbong. On the northern bank the plain apparently extends to the foot of the mountains separating the Tawâran from the Sulâman basin. Our route from Brungis lay East, East by North and then Norih, and the portion of the plain traversed had a general fall towards the East of North, but a very slight one.

On striking the river, our course lay upstream for some considerable distance, at first over level ground, and then, when the limits of the plain had been reached, and the true valley of the Tawâran entered, along the steep flanks of hills abutting on the stream, where a false step would often have precipitated one into the flood below. Fields of paddy, groves of cocoa-nut trees, herds of buffaloes, together with pigs, goats and poultry, betokoned a well-to-do and prosperous population. Sugar-cane appeared to thrive, but the specimens seen were not well planted and were short in the staple. Some of the Dusun homesteads dotted about this Tawâran plain possessed quite a home-like air of tranquillity and repose about them. Nestling in the grateful shade of cocoa-nut groves, bowered in broad-leaved bananas, and girdled with green paddy fields, they had a pleasant look to the tired traveller's cye. Snowy paddy birds dotted the verdant pastures, huge adjutant birds few on lazy wing from point to point. The scene was not without its idyllic charms, nor were home-associations wanting in the familiar-sounding caw of the Bornean crow (Corvus validus) as it was borne to the ear on the breeze.

The district towards the mouth of the Tawaran is called the Timbalang country, and has a Bajau colony settled in it. Above this point the Dusun population prevails, though a Bajau house may be found here and there. The tribal designation of the Tawâran Dusuns is Latud, and it may here be mentioned that that of the Dusuns up the Tampassuk river further north, is Tindal; that of the Dusuns in the vicinity of the North Borneo Company's Station of Kudat, on the north coast, Memâgun (vide the late Mr. F. Witti); while that of the Dusuns up the Labuk river, on the east coast, is Tambenua.

Reaching at sunset the house of a Bajau named Ibu, who had settled down there and had taken a Tawaran Dusun maiden to wife, we put up for the night, our slumbers soothed by the potent influence of some tuak, or cocoa-nut toddy, pressed upon us by the proprietor of a neighbouring Dusun house. This district we were told was called Telîbong.

An early start on the morrow down the bank of the river, brought us to the village of Liong Liongan, the Tawâran at our starting point flowing from N.E. with a rapid current. The bed rock of this region is sandstone. Proceeding some distance further down stream we accomplished a perilous transit in a gobong, or dug-out canoe of the very slenderest dimensions. C'était un maurais quart d'heure, for neither of us could swim, and the river, swollen by flood water, resembled a boiling, eddying Maelström, but fortune was kind, and on safely reaching the right bank, a short walk brought us to the Sungei Damit, which we struck a few hundred yards above its confluence with the main river. The Sungei Damit is a deep, sluggish stream shut in by high muddy banks. Here we halted at the house of the Datus Bandara and Tumonggong—a large, long structure of the ordinary Dusun barn-like type. A sago extracting apparatus was set up on the river bank here, in which product a moderate trade exists there. I had, en route, noticed cocoa-nut and arcca palms, bananas, kěladi, and paddy in profusion. The country is in fact very prosperous, in despite of the ravages of the memorable flood of January, 1883, which was very destructive in the Tawaran district. From the Datu Tumonggong's conversation, it appeared that a tamu, or market, was held at a place two days' journey up the Sungei Damit, to which the people of Kiau—the village on the flanks of Kina Balu, visited by Messrs. ̆Burbidge and Spenser St. John at different times—came down to trade. The route was, however, at present closed, owing to a bloodfeud.

Returning in the afternoon to Ibu's house, we started, after a light repast, for Tempeluri, a village some distance up the Tawâran, reaching the house of a Datu Massudi at about 3 P.M. The Tawâran is here a fine rapid stream, bordered on its true right bank by wooded hills, and on its left by level ground well planted with cocoa-nuts, with paddy fields beyond, bounded by hills in the back-ground. The height of the river rendering it impossible for us to proceed to Bawang or Lokob, we returned to our head-quarters in Ibu's house at the foot of the hill of Tagerangan, after a tramp of altogether some 15 miles or more. In the evening a native of Kiau, named Bungâran, arrived. This man, in the course of conversation, declared that no man had ever yet reached the true summit of Kina Balu, which, he asserted, is inaccessible from every side when once a certain elevation has been reached, the remainder of the ascent being sheer precipice. He added that there is a Dusun legend to the effect that a deep lake exists on the top. This is probably only a deduction on their part, drawn from the existence of perennial cataracts dashing down the topmost precipices, which form a magnificent feature in the landscape on the Tawâran.

The climate in the Tawâran valley is superb. At 5 A. M the thermometer will often stand as low as 68°, while the keen, cold air blowing down from the black towering summits that cut the eastern sky-line, invigorates the frame and braces the muscles for the coming labours of the day. It would require a poet's pen to do anything like justice to the gorgeous scenic effects and grand transformation scenes, as the orb of day rises behind the jagged mountain barrier. The whole country is so well opened up, that the monsoons have free play, and fever should be comparatively unknown. The soil may be described as sandy near the sea, but of every quality as one proceeds inland. Kina Balu bears about E.S.E. from the plain near the river mouth.

An hour's walk brought us back to Brungis, where we had left our pakerangan, or native boat, and some five hours more brought us to Gaya island, whence a start was effected early on the ensuing morning for the mouth of the Putatan river.

The Putatan river has two months—the Patâgas mouth, which lies a little to the E. of S. of the most southerly point of Gaya island at a distance, in a direct line, of about five miles, roughly estimated, and about half that distance south of Tanjong Aru; and its main mouth, Telîpuk, which lics a short distance to the southward of Tanjong Togorongon. The former is the most accessible entrance, the main kuala having a very gradually shoaling foreshore, and but little depth of water on it at high water. The Patâgas mouth opens to the westward and has a depth of about one fathom at low water. A short distance from it, to the northward, off Tanjong Aru, there is good anchorage close inshore for prahus and small boats, completely sheltered from both monsoons by an outlying sand-bank. The Putatan river is an appanagc of the Sultan of Brunei, and of Pangeran Muda Binjai's family.

A paddle of little over a mile and a half, passing en route, on the true right bank, the confluence of the little river Munglab, brings one to a small Bajau village, the head of which is Datu Kilan. From this point the Patigas flows more from the S.E., and becomes very narrow and tortuous up to its divergence from the main Putatan, rather more than a mile further on, where (and situate therefore at the apex of the delta of the Putatan) is a large Bajau kampong containing some hundreds of inhabitants. Directly above this the Dusun country begins. The heal of this village is Datu Sĕtia. On landing some two miles further up, I found Gaya island bearing about due North. A cursory survey shewed a fine open cultivated country, bounded some two miles off to the eastward by the foot-hills of the coast range, and dotted here and there with wooded knolls. The river maintains an average width of some seventy or eighty yards, with a winding course, whose main axis lies about East and West. It carries a good volume of water with a considerable amount of matter held in solution. From native report, it is not subject to severe floods, which may perhaps be attributed to its having two mouths to discharge by. Passing at 2 P.M. a considerable Dusun village, in which the very large honse of Datu Barukis, the leadman, is conspicuous, we fixed our head-quarters half an hour later, at the house of one Kawan, a Dusun, at a small hamlet named Kandayan. From this point Castle Peak" (of the Admiralty Chart) bore S by W., while the right hand flank of Kina Balu bore 80° E. of N. After a pleasant walk across a fine open country to the house of a Chinaman named Ah Kong, whose occupation is that of distilling arrack from rice, we were glad on our return to settle down for the night. A daughter of our host being ill with fever, I administered some medicine to her, and a regular smoking divan was then formed, all the men, and the ladies also, joining the circle. The Dusun in this respect presents a favourable contrast to the sedate, if not "dour" Malay. He and all his belongings, male and female, after doing the honours, will freely sit down with you and join in the conversation. These Putatan Dusuns are by far the best type of their race that I have met. They are tall, well-developed, clean-skinned, bright and intelligent looking people, who look what they are—well-fed and well-to-do. Among the bevy of damsels that sat around, were some by no means unprepossessing in appearance, with bright dark. eyes, open laughing countenances, clean limbs and well-turned figures. A chorus of laughter was evoked by my desperate endeavours to explain to an intelligent young Dusun that the earth is round like an orange, and not only revolves on its own axis, but round the sun also. Our merriment was, however, interrupted by the ravings of the fever-stricken patient, who had become delirious. Thereupon the entire company rose and adjourned to the long and broad verandah, when a most curious "function" was performed. Damar torches were lighted, and all the men squatted down in a circle outside the door of the patient's room. In the centre sat her brother, back to back with another relation. A tremendous din was then struck up by the beating of numerous gongs, hanging along the walls, in a kind of measured cadence, varied at intervals by a loud shout raised by all the men present. A youngish woman then commenced to dance with a slow measured step and swaying to and fro of her body, round the inside of the circle. In her left hand she held a stick, furnished at one extremity with a curious arrangement of black feathers. In her right she held a naked sword. With this latter she continually made passes, bringing the blade down edgeways between the heads of the two sitting men, and then striking the feathered stick with it. This continued for some time. She then touched the heads of all present with her "fetish" rod, which was then discarded and a sarong taken up in its place. With this she danced slowly round and round, holding it out extended in front of her. All this time the shouts were being vigorously given forth at intervals, while the clanging of gongs was deafening. The woman then made up the sarong into a turban which she slowly brought down over the head of the sick woman's brother, letting it rest there for a few seconds. She then removed it and laid it gently down behind her, and the ceremony was over. A torch-light procession of travelling natives, passing the verandah just at this juncture, lent an additionally weird effect to the conclusion of this curious ceremony, whose strange rites and obscure origin may perhaps be admitted to warrant my description of it. Doubtless the idea is the casting of the evil spirit out of the sick person, and the good effects of the pills administered to the patient were probably set down to the credit of the ceremony.

A remarkable thing in this district is the neatness and comparative cleanliness of the bulk of the houses. Instead of the objectionable split nibong, the floors are made of beaten out bamboo, the walls, of the same material, neatly plaited, chess-board pattern. There are regular sleeping compartments, and a fine broad verandah runs from end to end of the house along the front of it. Our beds were arranged in the main body of the house, a fine lofty, airy apartment where dirt and mosquitoes were equally conspicuous by their absence. We noticed as a curious fact in these Dusuns, that they made use, in talking, of the letter Z, which would seem to point to their affinity to the Milânaus of Sarawak.

An early start on the ensuing morning brought us, after a seven-mile tramp, among the foot-hills of the coast range. We were here some twelve miles, or more, inland. On our way we passed the debouchure of the river Sugut, which joins the Putatan on its proper left bauk, and further up, on the opposite side, the confluence of the Pagunan river, which is the true Putatan, the river bearing that name from this point, which we followed up, being in reality only a small tributary stream flowing from S.E. Pursuing our way up the valley of the latter, we reached our destination, a house at the foot of the hills, tenanted by an old Chinaman and his Dusun wife and daughter. We were here beyond the limits of the highly cultivated Putatan valley, and in a lovely country, at the point where the district of the Dusuus of the plain, marches with that of the Orang Tagâs, or Hill Dusuns. The Putatan valley is, without exception, the finest and most highly cultivated district in North Borneo. Without visiting it, it would be difficult for any one, accustomed only to such cultivation, or the lack of it, as is met with in other parts of North Borneo, to realize that, side by side with such districts, there exists one in which rice cultivation has been carried to the highest pitch of perfection, where every foot of soil is tilled, where substantial, and in many cases ornamental, land-marks of wood and stone have been erected all over the face of the country, and where the price of land ranges from $40 an acre or thereabouts. This country must be the granary of Brunei. The acreage of paddy is immense. One field, or rather plain, must, at a rough estimate, have been some 600 acres in extent, the whole being marked off by the land-marks of the different proprietors. It was intersected by the Longhap, a small, canal-like stream. The water supply for purposes of irrigation is unlimited, the levels are well laid out and the banks neatly kept up, a path running along the ridge of each. It would, however, be of great benefit to the district were a fresh stock of paddy introduced, larger in the ear, the present stock being small in the grain and shewing signs of deterioration. There are some 80 to 100 Chinese settled on the Putatan, the bulk of them being the descendants of former Chinese settlers, who have intermarried with the Dusuns and shew evidence of mixed blood. These Chinese are not agriculturists, nor, as far as I could learn, landed proprietors, but are principally distillers, manufacturing arrack, which they barter with the Dusuns. The soil is decidedly superior to that of the valleys of the Papar and Kimanis rivers to the South, and there is an almost total absence of swamp, owing, no doubt, to the country being all cleared, and the complete system of drainage. The surface configuration is that of a practically level plain studded with numerous small hills, on which the timber has wisely been left standing. The paddy fields extend up to the very bases of these. In moist tracts and along the lines of water-courses, some sago is grown, but the quantity of this is inconsiderable. Some five piculs of gutta come down from the interior monthly, and tobacco, camphor, beeswax and armadillo skins form the staple exports. The Brunei Government imposes a tax of from $6 to $9 per head per annum, or about $200 for each pangkalan, or village landing place. The number of the villages is remarkable, and in some parts of the upper portion of the river, they lic in sight of, and sometimes quite contiguous to, one another. The general aspect of the whole country is that of an orderly, industrious and civilized community, and a very fair prospect unfolds itself to the eye of one looking forth from the summit of one of the picturesque little hills above referred to, over the far stretching expanse of green paddy plains, clustering villages and detached homesteads nestling amid their surroundings of tall cocoa-nut and spreading sago palms, while dotted over the plain, the numerous wooded knolls rise like islands amid a sea of green. It is a smiling landscape. abounding in soft beauty, and backed by a range of noble mountains, with the father of them all—the towering Kina. Balu—rearing his lofty mass on the northern horizon. Indeed, for general evidences of prosperity, plenty and industry, and of well applied principles of cultivation carried out on a most exhaustive and extensive scale, the Putatan district may be fairly said to be unequalled in the whole of North Borneo. The formation of the lowlands and foot-hills is sandstone of recent formation.

The Putatan does not apparently drain any of the Kina Balu water-shed, although the river, which, as before stated, goes by the name of the Pagunan above the confluence of the Putatan river so called, can, I was informed, be ascended for fifteen days. The Orang Tagâs, a hill Dusun people, who wear the chawât, or bark loin-cloth, and who are found at the head-waters of all the rivers in N.W. Borneo, from the Tawaran to the Kimânis, inhabit the upper portion of the river down to its debouchure from the main coast range.

I noticed a curious musical instrument, a species of guitar, called by the Dusuns lonkoonong. This is made of a piece of large bamboo about 2 1/2 feet long and has 6 strings which are formed by the detaching and raising thin strips of the bamboo sheath. These are tightened at will by pushing a piece of wood along underneath each towards its point of junction with the bamboo.

Their customs are much the same as those of the bulk of the Dusun race. An intending bridegroom has to pay a marriage portion for his bride. When a father dies, his lands and property go to his sons, the eldest getting the largest share. The widow has no share, but has a right to the usufruct of the estate during her life, and the daughters have a claim for support upon the estate until marriage. At his death, a Dusun, if a poor man, is buried in the ground, a small house being erected over his grave, from and above which various coloured calico streamers are dependent. If a rich man, his body is buried in a valuable old jar. The value of some of these old jars is very great, amounting in some instances to hundreds of dollars, and the expenses of the funeral obsequies of an opulent Dusun chief often amount to over $600, buffaloes being killed and eaten, tuak consumed in large quantities, obat (fetish ceremonies) performed, etc.

Although the Putatan cannot properly be described as a sago river, its delta would afford a large area of land suitable for planting the sago palm, the land being low-lying and swampy, and abutting on a good water-way on either side. The highlands of the interior are easily accessible up its valley, the climate is salubrious and pleasant, the population large and well-disposed, but the lands along its banks are firmly held and highly valued, and it is doubtful whether any area of such land could ever be brought into the market.

The course of the main Putatan, or Telîpuk, to the sea, from the point at which the Patâgas branch diverges from it, is somewhat tortuous but has a good depth of water. Its mouth, however, as already stated, is shoal and difficult of entry. An examination of an outcrop of the strata on its right bank, on the way down, shewed the strike to be S.E. with a dip of about 80°. A mangrove growth extends up both banks for a short distance from the kuala, and also along the coast on either side, and there is no beach available for landing on. This is not the case with the Patâgas mouth which has a sandy beach and true jungle close to the sea with however mangroves inside.

As regards the state of cultivation of the tract watered by it, the Putatan may be fairly classed as the show river of North Borneo.

S. ELPHINSTONE DALRYMPLE.

[Erratum:—Page 270, line 2, for 600 read 6,000.]

  1. Eight feet or so.