No Description Could Exaggerate The Tortuosity Of The Linggi Or The
Abruptness Of Its Windings.
The boatmen measure the distance by turns.
When they were asked when we should reach the end they never said in so
many hours, but in so many turns.
Silently we glided away from the torchlight into the apparently
impenetrable darkness, but the heavens, of which we saw a patch now and
then, were ablaze with stars, and ere long the forms of trees above and
around us became tolerably distinct. Ten hours of darkness followed as
we poled our slow and tedious way through the forest gloom, with trees
to right of us, trees to left of us, trees before us, trees behind us,
trees above us, and, I may write, trees under us, so innumerable were
the snags and tree trunks in the river. The night was very still, - not
a leaf moved, and at times the silence was very solemn. I expected,
indeed, an unbroken silence, but there were noises that I shall never
forget. Several times there was a long shrill cry, much like the
Australian "Coo-ee," answered from a distance in a tone almost human.
This was the note of the grand night bird, the Argus pheasant, and is
said to resemble the cry of the "orang-outang," the Jakkuns, or the
wild men of the interior. A sound like the constant blowing of a
steam-whistle in the distance was said to be produced by a large
monkey.
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