On the way back we scrambled up to a small cave where there were
numerous carved coffins and bones which belonged to some of the former
owners of the caves, but alas! no jars of gold; possibly poor men, they
did not realize good prices. We returned down the rocks a different
way, which made Richardson indulge in some hearty language at the
Hadji's expense, who must have had fears that the Panglima-ship was
at the last moment slipping away from him. It certainly was awkward
and dangerous work climbing down the steep precipices, and we could
never have done it, but that the rocks were quite honeycombed with
small holes which enabled us to get a good hold for our hands.
That night was a busy one for me, skinning my numerous birds and
blowing the eggs by a dim light to the accompaniment of Richardson's
snores, and I did not get to bed till 2 a.m. We were up again at 4
a.m. for the return journey. But I had seen one of the most wonderful
sights in the world, and to me it seemed extraordinary that until I
came to Borneo I had never even heard of the Gomanton eaves. Some
day, perhaps within our time, they will become widely advertised,
and swarms of noisy tourists will come over in airships from London
and New York, but there will be one thing lacking -- all romance
will have gone from these lonely wilds and forests, and that is the
chief thing.
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