[Illustration: Mr. Flint's Bungalow]

I had been very anxious to go to the black bird's-nest caves of
Gomanton, but was assured by everybody that the difficulties would be
found insurmountable. All agreed that it was absolutely necessary to
await the return and the report of Messrs. Walker and Wilson, who had
gone to Gomanton to survey the road and to ascertain the
practicability of utilising the vast quantity of the excellent guano
with which the floor of the caves is thickly covered. A shorter
expedition has been therefore proposed, and it is arranged that we
shall cross the bay and look at the bilian-wood cutting. The party
divided, some going in the steam-launch, and some in Captain Flint's
boat to a picnic on the other side of the bay. The distant views of
Sandakan are very fine, as is also the aspect of the north bluff of
the island of Balhalla, where the best white birds'-nests in the world
are found, and are collected at terrible risk to life and limb. We
glided through a perfect archipelago of small islands, where we saw
curious houses, inhabited by Bajaus, or sea-gipsies. These huts are
built on piles in the water, and round them dart the natives in their
tiny canoes, throwing spears at the numerous shoals of fish. So
pleasant had been the voyage that we seemed to reach our destination
almost immediately. It was a long unfinished pier, composed of a few
split Nipa palms fixed, at intervals of a couple of feet apart, on
piles driven into the bed of the river. This primitive jetty stretched
far out into the stream, and was reached by a ladder of the same rough
style, with a space of at least two feet between each rung; not at all
a landing-place for ordinary mortals--European, at all events--and
only suitable for angels, Dyaks, or monkeys. Nevertheless it is the
timber-loading station for ships trading with Sandakan, and stands at
the mouths of Sapa Gaya and Suanlamba Rivers, down which most of the
best timber is floated in rafts or towed by steam-launches from the
interior. Fortunately some native prahus were drawn up alongside the
pier, and into these we stepped, and so got ashore, climbing up the
steep bank to the cosy little bungalow above. There we found Messrs.
Walker and Wilson, now on their way back from the caves, of which they
gave an interesting description. They seemed, however, to be firmly
impressed with the idea that it would be impossible for us to visit
them, the difficulties of the expedition