Through Central Borneo An Account Of Two Years' Travel In The Land Of The Head-Hunters Between The Years 1913 And 1917 By Carl Lumholtz
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We Passed A Timid Prahu Which Was Waiting At One Side
Of The Course, But Had I Desired To Do So There Was No Time To Stop My
Prahu.
That might have meant calamity, for we were already within a few
seconds of the rushing, turbulent waters.
So down we went, with a
delightful sensation of dancing, falling water, strong sunlight, and the
indescribable freshness and swiftness of it all. The Penihing at the bow
looked back at me and nodded with a satisfied expression on his
countenance, as if to say: "That was well done."
There were kihams after kihams to be passed; at one place where the rapids
were long, from twelve to eighteen men helped to direct each prahu with
rattan ropes, preventing it from going where the water was deep and the
waves ran high. But my men, who appeared to be skilful, evidently decided
not to depend on the rattan but steered deliberately out into the deep
water; the prahu began to move swiftly, and, tossed by the big waves, the
large tins and boxes were shaken about and threatened to fall overboard.
The bundle of one of the Dayaks actually dropped into the water. There
were only four men in the prahu, and the one at the bow, on whom so much
depends for safety, seeing that it was his bundle, immediately jumped
after it, leaving the boat to its fate. Luckily there was no reason for
the others to do likewise, and I escaped with drenched legs and a wet
kodak.
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