of Borneo. The form of government may be considered aristocratic rather than oligarchical: it is ruled by the sultan, but his power is kept in check by four great officers of government. These are, the Rajah Muda Hassim, the Bandar, in whose hands is the government of the country; Pangeran Mumin, the Degadon, the treasurer, or, as Mr. Hunt says, controller of the household of the sultan; Pangeran Tizudeen, Tumangong, or commander-in-chief; and Pangeran Kurmaindar, the Pen-dāmei, or mediator and interceder. This officer is the means of communication or mediation between the sultan and his Pangerans; and in case of condemnation, he sues for the pardon or mercy of his sovereign. Mr. Hunt, in his short but excellent paper on Borneo, mentions some other officers of state: I will not follow him, but in the names, as well as duties of these officers, his account agrees with my information. Further than this, I have not yet learned, therefore state not; for I am not manufacturing a book, but gaining information. I may add, however, that these offices are elective, and not hereditary: as far as I yet know, I am inclined to believe the election rests with the chief Pangerans of the state; not only those in office, but others. When I reach Borneo I can procure more ample details.
“23d.—Quitted the Royalist at the entrance of the Morotaba, and accompanied by Pangerans Subtu and Illudeen, set sail for the river Sadung.
“The town called Songi is of considerable size, and the entire population along the river may certainty be reckoned at from 2000 to 3000 persons, independent of Dyaks. The country has a flourishing aspect, but the soil is represented as bad, being soft and muddy. There is a good deal of trade from this river, and it annually sends several large prahus to Singapore: two were lying off the town when we arrived, and two others had sailed for that place twenty days before. The produce of the country is bees-wax, birdsʼ-nests, rice, &c. &c., but they seem to be procured in less abundance than in the other contiguous rivers. There is nothing peculiar about the Malay population, except that, generally speaking, it struck me, they appeared better off than the people of Sarāwak, or others I have visited hereabouts. We ascended the river by night, anchored a short distance from the Songi, in a tide-way like a sluice, and entered the smaller river shortly after daylight. Having sent the Pangerans ahead to advise Seriff Sahib of our arrival, we pulled slowly up to the campong of the Data Jembrong, where we brought up to breakfast. Data Jembrong is a native of Mindanao, an Illanun and a pirate; he is slightly advanced in years, but stout and resolute-looking, and of a most polite demeanor—as oily-tongued a cut-throat as a gentleman would wish to associate with. He spoke of his former life without hesitation, and confessed himself rather apprehensive of going to Singapore. He was remarkably civil, and sent us a breakfast of some fruit, salt fish, stale turtlesʼ eggs, and coffee sweetened with syrup; but spite of all this, his blood-thirsty education and habits prejudiced me against him. Breakfast finished, we went forward to visit Seriff Sahib, who received us in an open hall; promised to get us as many animals as he could now; regretted our short stay, and assured me he would collect more by the time I returned. Among these is to be a mĭas pappan, living or dead. I at the same time offered ten dollars for the skeleton belonging to the hand already in my possession, and a less sum for the parts. Being the first Europeans Seriff Sahib had ever met, he was rather puzzled to know what we were like; but we had every reason to be satisfied with his kindness and the civility of his people: the inhabitants, though crowding to see us, are by no means intrusive, and their curiosity is too natural to be harshly repressed. I need hardly remark here how very erroneously the position of the Sadung river is laid down in the charts, it being placed in the bay, to the westward of Santobong, and nearly in the position of the Samatan river.
“25th.—The last night was passed off Datu Jembrongʼs house, and I left him with a firm impression that he is still a pirate, or at any rate connected with them. He resides generally at Tawarron, to the northward of Borneo Proper, where his wives and children now are, and he has come here to superintend the building of a prahu. The people about him speak of his pursuits without disguise, and many informed us the prahu near his house is intended for a piratical vessel. Nothing could exceed the polite kindness of our rascally host, and I spent the rainy evening in his house with some satisfaction, acquiring information of the coast to the northward, which he is well able to give.
“In the morning we dropped down with the last of the ebb to the mouth of the Songi, and took the young flood to proceed up the Sadung. Beyond the point of junction with the Songi the Sadung retains an average breadth of from three-quarters of a mile to a mile. The banks continue to be partially cleared, with here and there a few Dyaks residing in single families or small communities on their ladangs or farms. The Dyak campong, which terminated our progress up the stream, consists of three moderately long houses inhabited by Sibnowans. The manners, customs, and language of the Sibnowans of the Sadung are the same as those of their Lundu brethren; they are, however, a wilder people, and appear poor. Like other Dyaks, they had a collection of heads hanging before the entrance of their chiefʼs private apartments. Some of these heads were fresh, and, with the utmost sang-froid, they told us they were womenʼs. They declared, however, they never took any heads but those of their enemies, and these women (unhappy creatures) had belonged to a distant tribe. The fresh heads were ornamented with fowlʼs feathers, and suspended rather conspicuously in separate rattan frames of open work. They professed themselves willing to go with me up the river to the mountains; and on the way, they informed me, were some large Malay towns, beside some more campongs of their own countrymen. Farther up they enumerated some twenty tribes of Dyaks, whose names I thought it useless to preserve. Late in the evening we set off on our return, and anchored once again near Datu Jembrongʼs house.
“26th.—Again visited Seriff Sahib. His name and descent are Arabic; his father, an Arab, having married a daughter of the Borneo Rajah. The Malays evidently honor this descent, and consider his birth very high. His power, they say, equals his family; as he is, in some measure, independent; and were he to instigate the Sadung country to take arms against Borneo, it is very probable he would overthrow the government, and make himself Sultan of Borneo. In person, this noble partakes much of his fatherʼs race, both in height and features, being tall and large, with a fine nose and contour of face. His manners are reserved but kind; and he looks as if too indolent to care much about acquiring power; too fat for an active traitor, though a dangerous man to oppress. We were the first Europeans he had ever seen; but, on our second visit, he lost much of his previous reserve, and was curious in examining our arms and accoutrements. We, as usual, exchanged presents; mine consisting of some nankeen, red cloth, knife, scissors, and handkerchief; while he gave me the shield of a great Kayan warrior, a Bukar spear, a goat, fowls, and our dinner and breakfast daily. He promised me specimens of the arms of all the Dyak tribes, and plenty of animals, particularly my much-desired mĭas pappan; and I, in return, agreed to bring him two small tables, six chairs, and a gun. Subsequently to our interview he sent me a tattooed Dyak, the first I had seen. The lines, correctly and even elegantly laid in, of a blue color, extended from the throat to his feet. I gained but little information; yet the history of the poor man is curious, and similar to that of many other unfortunates. He represented himself as a chief among his own people in the country of Buyat, five daysʼ journey up the Cotringen river (vulgo Coti river). Going in his canoe from the latter place to Banjamassim, he was captured by Illanun pirates, with whom he was in bondage for some time, but ultimately sold as a slave to a resident of Sadung. It was now five years since he became first captive; but having lately got money enough to buy his liberty, he is again a freeman; and having married, and turned to the religion of Islam, desires no longer to revisit his native country. The language of the tribe of Buyat he represents as entirely Malay. I made him a small present for the trouble I had given him, and he departed well content.
“About three oʼclock in the afternoon we had a heavy thunder-storm, with lightning as vivid as the tropics produce. Torrents of rain descended, and continued a great part of the night; but, sheltered by our kajangs or mats, we managed to keep tolerably dry. Indeed, the voyager on this coast must be prepared for exposure to heavy rains, and considerable detention from thick and cloudy weather. The latter obstruction, of little moment or even agreeable to those making a passage, is a cause of much vexation in surveying the coast, as for days together no observations are to be had.
“27th.—About 7 A. M. we quitted Songi, and dropped down as far as Tanjong Balaban, a low point forming the larboard entrance into the Sadung river,