Bruin Part 25

Teeming with the most gorgeous forms of tropical life--so rich in _fauna_ and _flora_, that it might be almost regarded as a great zoological and botanical garden combined--it will well repay the scientific explorer, who may scarce find such another field on the face of the earth.

Our young hunters, in contemplating the grand tropical scenery of Borneo, were filled with admiration. The _sylva_ was quite equal to anything they had witnessed on the Amazon; while the _fauna_--especially in quadrupeds and _quadrumana_--was far richer.

To one quadruped was their attention more especially directed; and I need hardly say that this was the Bornean bear--by far the most beautiful animal of the whole Bruin family. The Bornean bear is also the smallest of the family--in size, being even less than his near congener, the Malayan bear; though resembling the latter in many particulars. His fur is a jet black, with a muzzle of an orange-yellow colour, and a disc of still deeper orange upon the breast, bearing a certain resemblance to the figure of a heart. The hair is thickly and evenly set over his whole body--presenting the same uniform surface which characterises the black bear of North America, the two species of South America, and also his Malayan cousin--who inhabits the neighbouring islands of Sumatra and Java. For the latter, indeed, he is often taken; and many naturalists consider them as one species--though this is certainly an error. The Bornean bear is not only much less in bulk; but the deep orange-colour on his breast offers a permanent mark of distinction. In the Malayan bear there is also a marking on the breast; but it is of half-moon shape and whitish colour. Besides, the colour of the muzzle in the latter species is only _yellowish_, not _yellow_; and the animal altogether is far from being so handsome as the bear of Borneo.

Dr Horsfield, who had good opportunities of observing them both, has pointed out other essential characteristics, which prove conclusively that they are separate species; but the Doctor, guided by his love for generic distinctions, could not rest satisfied, without further ornamenting his task--by const.i.tuting for them a new genus, under the t.i.tle of _Helarctos_. There is no reason whatever for this inundation of generic names. It has served no good purpose; but, on the contrary, renders the study of natural history more complicated and obscure; and to no family of animals do these remarks more pointedly apply, than to that of the bears. So similar are all these quadrupeds to one another-- so perfect is the _family likeness_ between them--that to separate them into different genera is a mere pedantic conceit of the anatomists.

There are about a dozen species in all; and the systematic naturalists-- who do not even admit that number--have formed for the bears nearly as many genera as there are species,--among which may be mentioned the ridiculous t.i.tles of _Prochilus, Melursus, Helarctos_, and the like.

The Bornean bear is as much a true species of _ursus_ as either the brown bear of Europe, the black bear of North America, or the black bears of the Cordilleras; and, indeed, to these last his habits a.s.similate him very closely--being, like them, a vegetarian in his diet, and a great lover of sweets.

Of his _penchant_ for honey our young hunters had proof: for, it was while actually engaged in plundering a hive they first saw the Bornean bear. They were at the same time successful in effecting his capture-- which is now to be described.

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.

THE TALL TAPANG.

On their arrival at Sambos, our young hunters according to their usual custom, procured a native guide to direct them to the haunts of their game.

In this case it was a Dyak who became their conductor--one of those who follow the business of bee-hunters; and who, from the very nature of their calling, are often brought into contact with the bears as well as the bees.

Under the direction of the Dyak, our hunters made an excursion to a range of wooded hills, not far from Sambos, where the sun-bear was known to exist in great numbers; and where one was likely to be found almost at any time.

As they were pa.s.sing through the woods, they observed a very singular species of tree--indeed many species, that might be styled singular; but one pre-eminently so, that strongly arrested their attention. These trees did not grow in any great numbers together; but only two or three in one place; and more generally they stood singly--apart from any of their own kind, and surrounded by other trees of the forest. But though surrounded by other sorts, they were overtopped by none. On the contrary, their own tops rose above all the others to a vast height; and, what was most singular, they did not put forth a branch from their trunks until the latter had shot up to some feet above the "spray" of the surrounding forest. It was this peculiarity that had drawn the attention of our hunters. They might not have noticed it, had they kept on under the trees; but, on crossing a slight eminence--where the ground was open--they chanced to get a view of a number of these tall trees, and saw that they towered to a vast height, above all the others.

Even their tops had the appearance of tall trees, standing thinly over the ground--the ground itself being neither more nor less than the contiguous heads of the other trees, that formed the forest. Had this forest been a law jungle, there would have been nothing extraordinary in what they saw; but our hunters had already observed that it was a true forest of grand trees--most of them a hundred feet in height. As the trees which had attracted their admiration rose full fifty feet above the tops of the others, it may be imagined what tall individuals they were. They were slender, too, in proportion to their height; and these stems rising two hundred feet, without a single offshoot or branch upon them, gave the trees the appearance of being still taller than they actually were--just as a thin clean spar, set upright, looks much taller than a hill or a house of the same elevation.

We have said that there were no branches for the first hundred feet or so up the stem. Beyond that there were many and large limbs; which, diverging only slightly, and in a fastigiate manner, carried the tree nearly as much higher. These branches were regularly set; and covered with small, light, green leaves, forming a beautiful round head.

The bark of this tree was white, and by piercing it with a knife, our hunters perceived that it was soft and milky. The wood, too, for some inches below the periphery was so spongy, that the blade of the knife penetrated into it almost as easily as into the stalk of a cabbage.

The wood near the bark was of a white colour. Inwards it became harder; and had they been able to reach the heart, they would have found it very hard, and of a dark chocolate colour. On exposure to the air, this heart-wood turns black as ebony; and is used for similar purposes by the native Dyaks and Malays, who manufacture from it bracelets and other _bijouterie_.

On asking their Dyak guide the name of this remarkable tree, he said it was called the _tapang_. This, however, gave no information regarding its species; but Alexis, shortly after, in pa.s.sing under one, observed some flowers that had fallen from its top; and having examined one of these, p.r.o.nounced the tree a species of _ficus_--a very common genus in the islands of the Indian Archipelago.

If our young hunters were filled with admiration at sight of this beautiful tree itself, they shortly after observed something that changed their admiration into wonder. On advancing towards one of the tapangs, they were struck with a singular serrated appearance that showed along the edge of its trunk--from the ground up to the base of its branching head. It looked as if a tall ladder was laid edgeways along the trunk of the tree--one side of it bidden under the bark! On drawing nearer, this appearance was explained. A ladder in reality it was; but one of rare construction; and which could not have been removed from the tree, without taking it entirely to pieces. On closer examination, this ladder proved to be a series of bamboo spikes--driven into the soft trunk in a slightly slanting direction, and about two feet apart, one above the other. The spikes themselves forming the rounds, were each about a foot in length; and held firmly in their places by a bamboo rail--to which their outer ends were attached by means of thin strips of rattan. This rail extended the whole way from the ground to the commencement of the branches.

It was evident that this extemporised ladder had been constructed for the purpose of climbing the tree, but with what object? Upon this head their Dyak guide was the very man to enlighten them: since it was he himself who had made the ladder. The construction of such ladders, and afterwards the climbing of them, were the most essential branches of his calling--which, as already stated, was that of a bee-hunter. His account of the matter was as follows. A large wasp-like bee, which is called _lanyeh_, builds its nests upon these tall tapangs. The nest consists of an acc.u.mulation of pale yellowish wax--which the bees attach to the under-side of the thick branches, so that these may shelter the hive from the rain. To reach these nests, the bamboo ladder is constructed, and the ascent is made--not for the purpose of obtaining the honey alone--but more on account of the wax, out of which the combs are formed. The lanyeh being as much _wasp_ as _bee_, produces a very small quant.i.ty of honey; and that, too, of inferior quality; but the wax is a valuable article, and of this several dollars' worth may be procured from a single hive.

It is dearly earned money--very dearly earned, indeed; but the poor Dyak bee-hunter follows the calling from motives not easily understood--since almost any other would afford him a living, with less labour and certainly with less _pain_. Pain, indeed! he never succeeds in plundering the store of the _lanyeh_, without being severely stung by the insects; and though their sting is quite as painful as that of the common wasp, experience seems to have rendered the Dyak almost indifferent to it. He ascends the flimsy ladder without fear--carrying a blazing torch in his hand, and a cane basket on his back. By means of the torch, he ejects the bees from their aerial domiciles; and, then having torn their combs from the branches, he deposits them in his basket--the incensed insects all the while buzzing around his ears, and inflicting numerous wounds over his face and throat, as well as upon his naked arms! Very often he returns to the ground with his head swollen to twice the size it was previous to his going up! Not a very pleasant profession is that of a Bornean bee-hunter!

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN.

THE BRUANG.

As the party proceeded onward, they observed several other tapang-trees, with ladders attached to them; and at the bottom of one of these--which was the tallest they had yet seen--the guide made a halt.

Taking off his _kris_, and throwing to the ground an axe, which he had brought along, he commenced ascending the tree.

Our hunters inquired his object. They knew it could not be either honey or wax. There had been a bees' nest upon this tree--as the ladder told--but that had been removed long ago; and there now appeared nothing among the branches that should make it worth while to climb up to them.

The answer of the bee-hunter explained his purpose. He was merely ascending to have a lookout over the forest--which in that neighbourhood could not be obtained by any other means than by the climbing of a _tapang_.

It was fearful to watch the man ascending to such a dizzy height, and with such a flimsy, uncertain support beneath his feet. It reminded them of what they had seen at the Palombiere of the Pyrenees.

The Dyak soon reached the top of the ladder; and for some ten minutes or more clung there--s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his head around, and appearing to examine the forest on all sides. At length his head rested steadily upon his shoulders; and his gaze appeared to be fixed in one particular direction. He was too distant for the party at the bottom of the tree to note the expression upon his countenance; but his att.i.tude told them that he had made some discovery.

Shortly after he came down; and reported this discovery in laconic phrase, simply saying:--

"_Bruang_--see him!"

The hunters knew that "bruang" was the Malayan name for bear; and the coincidence of this word with the _sobriquet_ "Bruin" had already led them to indulge in the speculation, as to whether the latter might not have originally come from the East?

They did not stay to think of it then: for the guide, on regaining _terra firma_, at once started off--telling them to follow him.

After going rapidly about a quarter of a mile through the woods, the Dyak began to advance more cautiously--carefully examining each of the trunks of the _tapangs_ that stood thinly scattered among the other trees.

At one of these he was seen to make an abrupt halt, at the same instant turning his face upward. The young hunters, who were close behind him, could see that there were scratches upon the soft succulent bark, as if caused by the claws of some animal; but, almost as soon as they had made the observation, their eyes were directed to the animal itself.

Away up on the tall tapang--just where its lowest limbs parted from the main stem--a black body could be distinguished. At such a distance it appeared not bigger than a squirrel; but, for all that, it was a Bornean bear; and the spot of vivid orange upon its breast could be seen s.h.i.+ning like a coal of fire. Close by its snout a whitish ma.s.s appeared attached under the branches. This was the waxen domicile of the _lanyeh_ bees; and a slight mist-like cloud, which hung over the place, was the swarm itself--no doubt engaged in angry conflict with the plunderer of their hive.

The little bear was too busy in the enjoyment of his luscious meal--that is, if the stings of the _lanyehs_ allowed him to enjoy it--to look below; and for some minutes the hunters stood regarding him, without making a movement.

Satisfied with their inspection, they were at length preparing to fire at him; when they were hindered by the Dyak--who, making signs to them to be silent, drew them all back from the tree.

When out of sight of the bear, he counselled them to adopt a different plan. He said--what was true enough--that at such a height they might miss the bear; or, even if they should hit him, a bullet would scarce bring him down--unless it should strike him in a vital part. In the contingency of their missing, or only slightly wounding him, the animal would at once ascend further up into the tapang; and, hidden behind the leaves and branches, might defy them. He would there remain till hunger should force him down; and, since he was just in the act of having his meal, and had, no doubt, been eating from the time he was first espied-- or longer, perhaps--he would be in a condition to stay in the tree, until their patience should be more than exhausted.

True, they might fell the tree: they had an axe, and could soon cut the tree down--as the wood was soft; but the Dyak alleged that the bruang in such cases usually contrives to escape. The tapang rarely falls all the way, but only upon the tops of the trees that stand thickly round; and as the Bornean bear can climb and cling like a monkey, he is never shaken out of the branches, but springs from them into some other tree-- among the thick leaves of which he may conceal himself; or, by getting to the ground, manage to steal off.

His advice, therefore, was, that the hunters should conceal themselves behind the trunks of the surrounding trees; and, observing silence, wait till the bruang had finished his mellifluous repast, and feel inclined to come down. The Dyak said he would make his descent stern foremost; and, if they acted cautiously, they might have him at their mercy, and almost at the muzzles of their guns.

There was only one of the three who was not agreeable to this plan; and that was the impatient Ivan; but, overruled by the advice of his brother, he also gave his consent to it.

The three now took their respective stands behind three trees--that formed a sort of triangle around the tapang; and the guide, who had no gun, placed himself apart--holding his kris in readiness to finish off the bear, should the animal be only wounded.

There was no danger to be dreaded from the encounter. The little bear of Borneo is only dangerous to the bees and white ants--or other insects--which he is accustomed to lick up with his long tongue. The human hunter has nothing to fear from him, any more than from a timid deer--though he will scratch, and growl, and bite, if too closely approached.

It was just as the Dyak had predicted. The bruang, having finished his meal, was seen coming down the tree tail foremost; and in this way would no doubt have continued on to the ground; but, before he had got halfway down the trunk, Ivan's impatience got the better of him; and the loud bang of his fowling-piece filled the forest with its echoes. Of course it was a bullet that Ivan had fired; and it appeared that he had missed.

It was of little use firing also his shot barrel, though he did so immediately after.

The effect of his shots was to frighten the bruang back up the tree; and at the first report he commenced ascending. Almost as rapidly as a cat he swarmed upward; and for a moment the chances of losing him appeared as two to one. But Alexis, who had been watching the restless movements of his brother, had prepared himself for such an issue; and, waiting till the bruang made a pause just under the branches, he fired his rifle with deadlier aim. The bear, in clutching to one of the limbs, had extended his body outward, and this gave the rifleman the chance of aiming at his head. The bullet must have told: for the bear, instead of ascending higher, was seen hanging down from the limb, as if he was clinging to it with enfeebled strength.

At this moment the cannon-like report of Pouchskin's fusil filled the woods with its booming echoes; and Bruin, suddenly relaxing his grasp, came b.u.mp down among the hunters--missing Pouchskin by about the eighth part of an inch! Lucky for the old grenadier there was even this much of a miss. It was as good as a mile to him. Had the bear's body descended upon his shoulders, falling from such a height, it would have flattened him out as dead as the bear was himself; and Pouchskin, perceiving the danger from which he had so narrowly escaped, looked as perplexed and miserable as if some great misfortune had actually befallen him!

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.