my limbang journal.
7th.aTo-day the walking was worse than everaso steep that my heart almost failed me, but knowing how everybody looked to me, I did not give way. How continually those lines came to my memory, and how often I found myself repeating thema
44 Jog on, jog on the footpath way, And merrily hent the stile-a ;
A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a."
We kept on till twelve, when we stopped at a stream to breakfast on the cabbages of the bengkala palm ; exceedingly delicious, but not satisfying, it was like living on sugar and water. Here the old Pablat man said he must stay behind, as he had an attack of elephantiasis. I left his son-in-law with him, and pushed on.
We followed the torrent's course for some time over broken rocks, when the man we had constituted our guide turned to the left towards a mountain that looked nearly perpendicular. There was almost a mutiny ; even Musa declared that they could not face itathey must try the bank of the river. I represented to them that the Muruts had warned us that it was impossible to follow that course ; but they kept repeating they would like to try, so I gave way, and we continued for half an hour, till we reached the Limbang-Here the banks were perpendicular, and we all sat down for half an hour, looking gloomily at the foaming stream.
But this being of no use, I rose and told the guide that we must go back to the spot he had before chosen-But this being of no use, I rose and told the guide that we must go back to the spot he had before chosen-